


qualis artifex pereo

by chewhy



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, Korean Three Kingdoms Era, Korean War, M/M, Modern Monarchy, Modern Royalty, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewhy/pseuds/chewhy
Summary: jeongin is a small town boy from the outskirts of busan who just wants to hang out with friends and keep his scholarshipso he's really not sure why he's being caught up in scandals with the royal familystray kids au in which 3racha makes up the new generation of the modern monarchy





	1. Chapter I: Meetings and Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey look! it's 4 am and i have two midterms yet i'm writing about other kids not studying and going on adventures instead!
> 
> heavily unbeta'd so feel free to yell at me about atrocious writing and characterization
> 
> in this episode of: why is chewy starting yet another chaptered fic when she hasn't even finished her previous ones?

Chapter I: Meetings and Introductions

 

“It’s okay, Mom! I promise!” Jeongin paces in circles around his luggage, squishing his phone between his ear and shoulder as he tries to make sense of the campus map that some move-in helper had thrown his way. “I’m fine, I got here safe,” he reassures, “Plenty of kids are moving in by himself.” He nods subconsciously, then lets out a soft, “Mmhmm,” when he realizes his mother can’t actually see him. “No, Mom, it’s okay. I understand! Now go back to the shop, okay? I promise to call you back when I’m all moved in.” Quickly saying his _I love you’_ s and goodbyes, Jeongin wraps up the call as he drags his belongings over in the direction he thinks he’s supposed to be going. 

 

As Jeongin makes his way between this building and that, he can’t help but wonder if this is all worth it. While he knows that this school is “the most prestigious institution of higher level learning” in the country, he can’t help but worry about how, academic scholarship or not, his parents are back home in Busan working extra hours to afford the whole thing. 

 

The marble front faces of libraries interspersed between laboratories with floor to ceiling glass windows don’t do much to give him a welcoming feel, and neither do the kids walking by with Burberry backpacks and Gucci slippers. As he keys into his dorm building and shuffles on into the elevator, Jeongin can’t help but wonder how he, a country boy who’s only ever been good in school and occasionally singing trot, fits into all of this. 

 

The elevator chimes with a ding, startling Jeongin out of his thoughts and he jumps up from where he was leaning against the wall, about to walk out when he realizes that this actually isn’t his floor. There are two girls with waist length hair, styled in a ridiculously perfect way. They both look at Jeongin with awkwardly polite smiles on their face until Jeongin realizes that he’s still standing in their way without moving in or out. 

 

“Oh! Sorry, I thought… This was my floor,” Jeongin mumbles as he steps back into the corner with his stuff. 

 

They just nod, “You’re fine,” and go back to chatting about whatever celebrity gossip is the new buzz. 

 

“Did you hear? We might be living in the same dorm as one of the royals,” one girl whispers.

 

“No way?” the other one counters, “But even if there are on campus housing requirements, he can probably afford to buy a house himself and commute?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t even care,” the first girl sighs, flicking her hair. “I do hope I see him around at least once, though. He’s supposed to be the cute one.”

 

Jeongin tunes out of their conversation, realizing that it’s rude to eavesdrop, and really he couldn’t care less. Even though they’re perfectly polite, he’s not sure that he’ll really get along with this crowd. Finally, they reach his stop and they all wave at each other, saying light, meaningless, “See you arounds”. 

 

When Jeongin gets to his room, he’s even more flustered seeing two cutout shells on his door. One says, “ _Yang Jeongin. Busan, South Korea._ ” which is perfectly fine. The other, however, says, “ _Lee Felix. Sydney, Australia_.” Of course he ends up with an international student as his roommate. 

 

But it’s okay, Jeongin decides. Everything will be alright, they wouldn’t accept somebody to this school who doesn’t speak Korean, and in fact, it’s a wonderful opportunity to learn about new cultures and hey, maybe even get a little help with English.

 

So with those self-reassurances, Jeongin shoves open the door (new building or not, the doors are ridiculously heavy). 

 

Inside is a surprisingly spacious room. There’s a wall at the back that Jeongin imagines would look beautiful if it were decorated with plants. Mint? Basil? Following the sill to the left, he sees that the bed has already been made and the desk has been adorned with various picture frames and knick knacks, although there doesn’t seem to be a single book in sight. He looks around and sees no roommate around. 

 

On the right, there’s another bed, but bare and the desk holds a welcome letter with a complementary school spirit water bottle. Jeongin nods to himself, saying, “Ok, cool cool cool, this is great,” as he begins to unpack his belongings. An hour later, he has most everything set up. He’s lofted the bed, pushed the dressers underneath for a little extra room, and he’s just organizing his books on the small shelf over his desk when the door handle clicks. 

 

Jeongin jumps up in surprise, bumping his head on the top part of the shelf. A boy his age, his roommate, probably, comes in smiling. “Oh hey! Are you okay?” he asks gesturing towards where Jeongin is on the floor, rubbing his head.

 

“Oh, yes,” Jeongin says, hurriedly picking himself up off the ground. “I uh, you startled me. I’m Jeongin, by the way,” he extends his hand in greeting. “You must be Felix?”

 

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s me, nice to meet you,” Felix says, grasping Jeongin’s hand in a sturdy handshake. Jeongin is pleasantly surprised as his roommate seems rather friendly, and looks on with a smile as he watches Felix takes in Jeongin’s updated side of the room. “Woah, how did you get your bed to do that?” he asks in wonder as he sees how much higher it is now.

 

“That? Oh, I lofted it, I can show you, if you’d like,” Jeongin offers. 

 

Felix enthusiastically agrees, and they spend the next few minutes getting to know each other as they work on Felix’s bed. Later, Felix invites Jeongin out to dinner with his family, who are staying for the rest of the week before flying back to Australia. As they go around the orientation events together, awkwardly meeting new people here and there as they exchange snapchat ID’s and instagram handles, Jeongin feels some of the discomfort and anxiety in his stomach settle. He’s sure the year will have it’s ups and downs, but it really can’t be as bad as his mind imagined it would be. 

 

—

 

Orientation week is over, and as everybody, Felix and Jeongin included, settle down from the anxiety of adjusting to a new place with new people, everybody rushes to make sure their class books and supplies are prepped as they now exchange schedules instead of social media. Jeongin is sorry to say that he has no classes shared with Felix. 

 

Really, there isn’t anybody at all he knows in his classes, so Jeongin is understandably nervous on his first day. There’s a kid, Hyunjin or something, who he sat next to during the commencement and convocation who was supposed to be in his Ancient Korean History course, but that’s on Thursdays so it seems that Jeongin will have to brave the first day by himself. 

 

Somehow, he manages to reassure himself with the fact that he made it through orientation, even making friends with a few other kids in the process, and he steps forward, shoving the door open with a deep breath.

 

The classroom is empty, and there is nobody inside. Of course, because who in this world except Jeongin would show up to a 9:30AM class half an hour early? He toddles over to the side, somehow feeling even more awkward because nobody is here. 

 

“Mhmm,” he clears his throat as he settles down in his seat. After fidgeting for a few moments alone, he reaches down and pulls up the course book and a pencil. A few more moments of silence pass, and Jeongin can’t take it anymore to the point that he begins practicing introducing himself.

 

“Hello. Hi. Hi, I’m Jeongin. Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head as he thuds his forehead on the desk in front of him. “Why am I so awkward?” he asks into the empty space before him. 

 

“Probably because you’re talking to yourself,” a voice says from above Jeongin’s head. 

 

Jeongin practically gets whiplash from looking up so quickly, “What.”

 

“Hey, Jeongin. I’m Jisung, nice to meet you!” the stranger says from in front of him. From what he can observe, based on the backpack, earrings, and trendy sweatpants, Jeongin assumes that the stranger is a fellow student and not the professor. Looking him up and down, Jeongin realizes that he’s got his hand held out.

 

“Oh, shoot, sorry! I’m Jeongin! Which, you already know,” Jeongin says, scrambling to shake the other kid’s hand. “Are you in this class, too, then?”

 

Jisung shrugs, swinging his backpack down onto the desk before shimmying himself in as well. “Looks like it. Hey, can I see your book? I ordered mine but it hasn’t gotten in here yet.”

 

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Jeongin says, rushing to hand it to him. He belatedly realizes how eager he’s being, and hopes that Jisung doesn’t comment, which, luckily he doesn’t. 

 

They wait there in silence, Jeongin going back to fidgeting as Jisung flips through the book next to him. There’s just the soft _thwp thwp_ of the pages and the hum of the air conditioning whirring through the air around them. 

 

“So, uh—“ Jeongin begins at the same time that Jisung says, “Well, then.”

 

“Oh, go ahead,” Jeongin stutters, gesturing to Jisung to speak first.

 

“Okay, well. This might be a bit of a weird question, but do you know me?” 

 

Jeongin is a little taken aback, and slowly shakes his head _no_ , as he wracks his brain for any recollection of bumping into a little squirrely kid like Jisung. “I’m afraid not… Should I?”

 

Jisung doesn’t get much more than a sly smile on his face before the professor walks in, trailed by a few of their other classmates. Whatever previous conversation Jisung and Jeongin were having gets lost in the greetings that take place. 

 

Soon enough, the rest of the class has entered. It’s one of the mandatory writing seminar courses, so the class size is surprisingly small, only 18 people or so. They go through the mandatory ice breakers (it’s a food. That starts with your name. Jeongin says juice box and feels the regret immediately. Jisung says jalapeños and everybody is very confused) and the syllabus before the professor asks them to take the rest of class to compose an on demand writing piece. 

 

It’s really just supposed to be a simple diagnostics on what you hope to learn in your class, what you’re worried about in the class, but somehow Jeongin ends up with way too many rambling words that he’ll have to cut out before class is over. He goes back through and makes a copy of the document before he deletes every “I’m worried” “I’m afraid” “I don’t want” and tightens up and polishes every “I hope” “I wish” “I expect”. 

 

By the time most of the kids are packing up, Jeongin is putting the final touches on his essay before he submits it. He’s the last one to leave, and thanks the professor with a smile as he heads out the door. 

 

On the other side, Jeongin is surprised to be met with Jisung waiting in the hallway, backpack hung with just one strap over a shoulder. “Hey, Juice Box Jeongin! What took you so long?” Jisung calls, his voice echoing around the mostly empty hallway as he approaches Jeongin and slings an arm around his shoulder

 

“Oh, I was just finishing up the writing piece. What are you still doing here?” Jeongin asks.

 

“Ah, you know, just looking out for my new friend. Anyway, you do realize that the writing assignment was supposed to be bad, right? You shouldn’t polish up so much or you won’t get yourself that _Most Improved_ sticker,” Jisung explains. He rather sounds like he knows just about everything, and Jeongin can’t help but feel the slightest bit intimidated. 

 

“I see,” Jeongin mumbles under his breath. With the way Jisung is rattling on and on, Jeongin’s not even sure if he heard. 

 

“So, where are you headed to next?” Jisung asks, suddenly switching the topic of conversation. 

 

“Me?” Jeongin asks, pointing to himself. When Jisung nods as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, Jeongin shrugs, saying, “I have class in an hour, so maybe just to grab lunch.”

 

“What? No way, me too!” Jisung beams. “What class is it?”

 

Jeongin tries to squash his hopes from getting too high, reciting to himself the stats of exactly how many students there are compared to class size. “It’s Photography, actually. I kind of needed an arts credit, so, yeah. What about you?”

 

Jisung smirks at him, removing his arm to check something on his phone. “Well, what a wacky coincidence my friend. I am totally taking Photography, too! Why don’t we grab that lunch together?”

 

Jeongin feels his jaw drop open a little bit, “Wait seriously? You’re taking Photography on Mondays and Wednesdays at 12:30?”

 

Jisung barks out a sharp laugh, saying, “I guess you could say that. The point is, I am now.”

 

—

 

The weeks pass by in a blur of classes and socializing. Jeongin somehow ends up making a solid group of friends from his math class. 

 

There’s Hyunjin, who looks like he should be hot and dumb but is actually hot and smart and is the only one who knows what is going on. He’s also in Jeongin’s history class, and is his only saving grace when Jeongin calls Hyunjin at 2AM to say, “Shit! Were there readings due tomorrow?”

 

Then there’s Seungmin, the perfect golden child with such impeccable notes he could make a living selling it. Luckily, he’s also an angel and shares his notes with the rest of the group for free when they skip, plus a little scolding on the importance of attending lecture.

 

And finally, there’s Jisung. Jeongin is 99% sure that Jisung is just auditing the lectures for fun, although he’s really not sure where Jisung sees the fun in Multivariable Calculus. 

 

With all of the time that he’s spending in study groups and going to club meetings for free food, he ends up drifting somewhat from Felix. He’d introduced his friends a while back, and it seems that Hyunjin and Felix had really clicked, even ending up joining a dance troupe together. They’re still friendly, saying hi when they see each other but lately, Jeongin has rarely had a chance to be in his room except when sleeping. 

 

And yet, when Jisung invites Jeongin over to his house for “a real rager” Jeongin instinctually runs to Felix to ask him to come with. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Jisung, but Jeongin has never really been a party person. Sure, he’ll tag along when Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung go out to drink and party, but only to act as the sober friend, chasing them around when they get up to ridiculous antics. At least now, if Felix comes along, Jeongin will have somebody to cling to when Jisung gets distracted by his infinitely many friends. 

 

Jeongin soon comes to regret his decision to rely on Felix as they stand around waiting for the cab. Felix chuckles while ruffling Jeongin’s perfectly styled hair, “We’re going to a party, Jeongin. What do you need headphones for?”

 

Jeongin huffs, backing away from Felix’s impeding hand. “It’s in case the music sucks, okay? You know Jisung only listens to that rap stuff.”

 

“But the camera?”

 

“I have to finish my photography project! I was just going to take a couple of pictures in the car and store it in Jisung’s room or something.”

 

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Felix says. “But, just warning you. You sound like my grandmother.”

 

“What—“ before Jeongin even has a chance to complain at the audacity of Felix’s suggestion, he’s interrupted by the sound of footsteps and a shout.

 

“Jeongin! Sorry I kept you guys waiting,” Hyunjin says, panting. “I got caught up with some last minute stuff. Oh, Felix, hey,” Hyunjin says, throwing him a nod. “Are you guys ready to go?”

 

Jeongin nods, looking down at his phone. “Yeah I called the taxi, it looks like they’re only a few blocks away.” As if on cue, the yellow car pulls up next to them on the sidewalk, and they all usher themselves in, ready for a night of adventure. 

 

—

 

Somehow, even through all the anxiety and nervousness for the upcoming night, Jeongin manages to fall asleep in the cab and only wakes up to the sound of Felix giggling while a camera shutter clicks in his face. “What?” Jeongin asks, disoriented. 

 

“Wake up, silly, we’re here,” Hyunjin says affectionately as he slides out of the car. 

 

“Also, I got you a few pictures for your photography project,” Felix snickers, also following Hyunjin out. 

 

Jeongin grumbles, rubbing at his eyes as he clambers slowly out of the cab. When he looks up, however, he’s wide awake as he stares in awe at the massive building stretching up up up, way above all of their heads. “Jisung lives here?” Jeongin asks, mouth dropping open. 

 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin snorts, shooting Jeongin a look. “The dude is fucking royalty.”

 

Jeongin just nods as he stumbles along behind Felix and Hyunjin. “Yeah, sure looks like it.”

 

Felix knocks on the door, but the music seems to be too loud for anybody to really hear inside, so Hyunjin reaches past and just opens the door for them. Somehow, the music gets louder as they wind their way into the front hall and find themselves among a surprisingly large group of people. 

 

There, in the back and standing on a pair of the biggest speakers Jeongin has ever seen, stands Jisung. He’s crowing into a microphone, and the set up feels more like a concert than a party. Jisung must spot them, too, because he points in their direction and shouts, “My dudes! Come join me for karaoke!”

 

Jeongin tries to shy behind Felix at the sudden attention, but then peeks back out upon realizing that nobody’s actually paying such close attention. They mostly seem to be mingling, dancing, or drunk. Felix laughs and pushes Jeongin up and through the crowd until the reach Jisung, Hyunjin following behind in the path they make through the parted crowd. 

 

After a short and sudden exchange of hands and microphones and headphones, Jeongin somehow finds himself standing up on the speakers next to Jisung, microphone in his hand as he sings along to some pop song from a few years back. Jeongin’s not sure how much time passes as they scream into each other’s faces, trying to out-sing the original artist blasting out of the speakers. 

 

Across the room, Jeongin thinks he sees Felix’s blonde hair exit through a side door holding the hand of some guy. Jeongin initially assumes it’s Hyunjin, although later when he looks back on this night, he’ll remember that the guy was definitely way too short to be Hyunjin, on top of the fact that Hyunjin was in a different corner of the room dancing the night away. For now, he focuses back into this moment of shouting and lifting his hands up in the air along with everybody else in the room. 

 

As they try to dance on the crowded platform provided by the speaker, Jeongin slips for the fifth time and finally Jisung jumps down, reaching back to provide a hand to help Jeongin clamber down as well. Even though Jeongin hasn’t even had a single drink that night, he can’t help but feel high and giddy from the rush of performing, regardless of the fact that nobody had really been looking of listening. 

 

“Thanks for inviting me, Jisung,” Jeongin shouts over the pounding bass reverberating throughout the kitchen. 

 

Jisung nods absentmindedly before leading Jeongin out a door to what must be the backyard, although it looks more like a page out of a _Home Style_ magazine. “Yeah, what do you think?” Jisung asks. 

 

Jeongin’s not sure if there’s something weird about the atmosphere, but he can’t help but feel like Jisung seems overly eager for his approval. Jeongin decides to shrug it off, deciding that somebody as popular and rich as Jisung would never seek approval from a country bumpkin like him. “It was super cool,” Jeongin reassures. “You never told me you lived in a _mansion_ , though. This place is huge! And is that an _actual fountain_?” he exclaims, pointing to what seems like a lake big enough for a boat that sits smack dab in the middle of the yard. 

 

Jisung lifts an eyebrow, smiling as he says, “Yeah. You want to go for a swim?” Before Jeongin even realizes, he’s being dragged into the water and he coughs as Jisung splashes it into his face. 

 

“What— wait!” Jeongin shouts, making Jisung pause.

 

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks with worry as he approaches, only to be stopped by the wave of water Jeongin throws into his face with a laugh. 

 

Later, as people trickle out of Jisung’s house while they lie looking up at the stars, drying off in the backyard, Jisung comments, “You know, if you think this place is big, I’ve got a special field trip in mind. What are you up to next Friday?”

 

“I don’t know, but something tells me we’re skipping math…” Jeongin says cautiously. 

 

Jisung laughs, and is interrupted by Hyunjin running outside to them, shouting, “There you guys are! I’ve been looking for you guys.”

 

“Should we…” Jeongin doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before Jisung is back to splashing a very disappointed Hyunjin while Jeongin helps by holding him down.   
  
“Hey!” Hyunjin shouts, “Do you know how long it took me to do my hair this morning?”

 

As they splash around in the water, Jeongin realizes that this is what everybody is talking about when they say that college is the best time of their lives. 


	2. Interlude pt. 1: Dream Sequence Beginnings

**Interlude pt. 1: Dream Sequence Beginnings**

 

_Jeongin wakes up to the sound of birds chirping as the sunlight shines through the cracks in the walls._

 

_“Jeongin! Hurry and wake up, you should get your chores done before the Emperor’s procession arrives in town today!” his mother’s voice calls through the door._

 

_Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he rolls back the mat and takes in his surroundings. There’s the candle on the floor, which his mother must have blown out for him last night. Next to it lays the book he had been studying late into the night. Tidying up his room, he steps out to where his family waits. His mother has prepared him some breakfast, and he scarfs it down gratefully._

 

_“Your brother’s been out in the fields for an hour already. Hurry up and feed the livestock, now. We can’t let you go out into town looking like this,” his mother chides, but Jeongin knows she means no harm by the bright, if slightly worn smile on her face._

 

_“Yes, mother.” Jeongin finishes breakfast before quickly running out to the field where his brother awaits._

 

_“Hyung!” he calls as he runs through the rows and rows of wheat. “Jungmin hyung!”_

 

_His brother looks up from where he’s standing, slicing down the crops. “Jeongin. You’re late again,” he says. His words hold no malice, but rather a joking tone as he nods over to his side, “Get to work.”_

 

_Jeongin just gives him a sheepish smile before rolling back his sleeves, pushing his hair back out of his face before he kneels to work side by side with his brother._

 

_“What kept your up so late last night? Tell me the story you read,” Jungmin speaks up after a few moments, breaking the rhythmic swishing sounds of the wind following the scythe._

 

_“It was just some boring history stuff about the government,” Jeongin answers._

 

_“Then tell me a different story. The one about the sparrows and the moon.”_

 

_So Jeongin does, filling the air around them with tales of adventure, romance, and sorrow as they work until the sun stands high above them. When Jeongin finishes the tale, they continue to work in silence, but Jeongin’s mind continues to churn._

 

_Even though Jeongin knows his brother holds no resentment against him, it’s hard to brag freely about his improvements when he knows his brother has resigned himself to a life as a farmhand because their parents couldn’t afford to send them both to school. Jeongin knows that in a small town like this, his literacy is a privilege, not a burden, but he can’t help but feel the weight to do well on his shoulders._

 

_As if Jungmin can hear him, he stands and says, “Stop working your brain so hard and work your stomach instead. Here.” He hands Jeongin a sweet potato that he must have filched from the kitchens before coming out. “Let’s take a break before we head back.”_


	3. Chapter II: Discovery and Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cut it off short bc the last line was Iconic(TM)  
> even tho i wrote it lmfao
> 
> in which jisung is still whipped for jeongin, and jeongin is still oblivious as heck, and chan finally shows up

Chapter II: Discovery and Recognition

 

When Jisung had pulled up in a sleek black Porsche this morning shouting, “Get in loser. We’re going on a field trip!” Jeongin had not expected _this_ to be their destination. 

 

“Jisung…” Jeongin trails off. “Isn’t this the Royal Palace? Why are we here? How did we even get in?” Jeongin has so many questions right now and he doesn’t even know what he would do with the information if he got the answers. 

 

“Relax, I know a guy,” Jisung says, smirking as they pull around the back. There’s a gate with a guard standing in front of it, and Jisung rolls down the window. “Hey, Minho! I see you were booted to door duty; sorry about last week,” Jisung calls to the guy by the gate. 

 

The guard, Minho apparently, walks over with a huff. “Can you please not bother me when I’m working at least once in my life? Who’s this,” he asks, nodding over at Jeongin. 

 

“Oh, this? This is my friend, Jeongin. He’s visiting!” Jisung flashes a wide smile. Jeongin also smiles and gives a timid wave. He’s quite honestly still a little confused, but apparently, Jisung knows the guard?

 

Minho sighs, “I’m going to pretend that you are a responsible kid who gave a twenty-four hour notice and got him background checks. If you get in trouble, it’s not on me. I have an important assignment coming up and you better not let me lose it.” He turns around, talking into his walkie-talkie as he walks away. 

 

By some special forces of the heavens above (or, more likely, a remote control somewhere) the gates open for Jisung to drive them through. “Are you excited?” Jisung asks as they enter the palace grounds. 

 

“Yes, but also this feels wrong,” Jeongin admits. He’s never actually been inside the Royal Estates - one time in tenth grade, his class came to Seoul on a field trip as part of Government class, but not enough of the kids got their background checks ready for them to enter the palace. They did tour Congress and ended up getting ushered out of the cafe when some of Jeongin’s classmates tried to start a food fight. Thinking back on those moments is what makes Jeongin glad he chose to go to an elitist college, regardless of the stereotypes. 

 

“Chill, I have to pick up some stuff here anyway. I can give you a short tour and then I’ll let you explore, yeah? You’ll love the courtyards, I promise.” 

 

So then, somehow, Jeongin finds himself chasing Jisung up and down the hallways of the Royal Palace on a Friday morning when they should really be sitting in a math lecture trying not to fall asleep. There’s a couple of close calls when Jisung gets too excited around the statue of His Highness’s brother and almost knocks into the one next to it, a bust of the prince, or when Jeongin slips on the waxy floors and crashes into a floor to ceiling mirror that wobbles dangerously as he rushes to keep up with Jisung. 

 

Other than that though, Jeongin is so grateful to the fates for telling him to bring his camera today as he snaps photos left and right, giving small nods of acknowledgment to Jisung as he prattles on about this wall and that floor tile. Somewhere inside, Jeongin knows that this literally cannot be anything like the official tour, but he doesn’t mind as he snaps a picture of the corner that apparently Jisung threw up in one time.

 

Before he knows it, Jisung informs him they’ve reached the courtyard. Looking around, Jeongin realizes that Jisung was right. He loves it. He nods absentmindedly as Jisung tells him he’ll be back in a few minutes, too distracted with getting focus shots on the hibiscus blossoms decorating the tree branches. As he steps over a small stone bridge that crosses a stream filled with little koi fish darting back and forth, Jeongin imagines himself to be in some kind of wonderland, surrounded on all sides by foliage unique to this country. 

 

With the lack of people around, he imagines that once, some hundreds and thousands of years ago, another boy just like him stood on this very same sandy path, looking up at the jade and gold decorating the rooftops as his _hanbok_ floated around him in the wind. Instead, here he stands in ripped jeans and a saggy hoodie, nothing with him except his camera in his hands and his phone in his back pocket. 

 

If this were a historical drama, he’s sure there would be children running around with paper kites in the shapes of dragons and swallowtails, their steps emphasized with the plucking of stringed instruments, but instead he stands alone in the softly filtered sunlight and captures what’s left of history in this palace before it is covered up with more modernized glass and steel. 

 

Taking one last snapshot of a flower petal floating gently down the stream, Jeongin gets up off of his knees and turns to head back inside, only to be drawn in by a side path leading to somewhere out of the boundaries he knows. Internally, Jeongin is telling himself not to, but he lets his camera lead him forward, pointed as if to scope out any danger. Ducking under a circular gateway, he finds himself in a smaller courtyard. Here, there’s only one tree, but it’s massive, towering above the walls that surround it and spreading its branches into the roof. Across from where he stands, there is one small, unassuming door. Jeongin ducks his head as he passes through, feeling rather like he’s Alice in Wonderland, exploring in a drug-addled world. 

 

When he turns around after making sure the door is shut firmly behind him, he is shocked to find that the side door has led him to a grand marble hallway stretching down either side. Stone columns rise up on either side and even Jeongin, who is no architect, can see the intricate Western influences that blend in somehow perfectly with the traditional Korean architecture to emphasize the grandeur and absolute essence of royalty that is present in this room. His hands automatically pull the camera to his face and he tilts his neck this way and that, trying to capture as much of what he considers to be _fine art_ stretching in all directions. 

 

Turning to the side, he looks through the viewfinder and sees a man walking briskly towards him, right arm outstretched, shouts already forming on his half-opened lips as he approaches. At the angle that Jeongin is standing, the man looks enshrined in a halo of light, pillars providing blocking on either side of the hallway so that the focus of the shot is obvious to even an amateur photographer. Without even realizing, Jeongin snaps one shot, then another, then another. One for each step the man takes forward until Jeongin realizes that the destination is here, in front of Jeongin himself.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” the stranger says. The tone of his voice is harsh, jarring against the angelic framing Jeongin had seen through the camera. 

 

Slowly peeking out from behind his only defense, Jeongin looks up at the man who towers over him. Startled at how unexpectedly close they are, Jeongin skitters back, mumbling a soft, “Sorry.”

 

It’s only when he leans forward to bow in apology that he notices the crest on the man’s arm and the clues all click together. “Your Highness,” Jeongin gasps, apologizing as he bows even deeper, ending in a kneel. “I didn’t realize, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You— You didn’t realize?” the man— no, the _prince_ , Prince Chan, second in line of succession to the throne of the Congressional Monarchy of South Korea, stutters in surprise. The prince sighs, reaching down to grab Jeongin’s arm. “Get up, you don’t have to do that kind of thing in front of me.”

 

“Sorry,” Jeongin stutters again. He’s really not sure about what the protocol is when the prince of Korea catches you trespassing on his property, but his social anxiety stops him from saying anything much more than shaky apologies.

 

“Who are you. You don’t look like a reporter from how you’re dressed. But give me that camera,” Prince Chan demands. Jeongin hastily fumbles to comply and passes it over, not even bothering to erase the evidence of the pictures he just took. Prince Chan takes it into his hands, turning it this way and that before looking at the contents of the pictures themselves. “How did you get in here. Why are you taking photographs,” he bombards Jeongin with questions that are missing the question marks, sounding more like an interrogation. 

 

Jeongin isn’t sure how to answer when he himself wonders the same things. “I—“

 

At that moment, Jisung manages to save the day as he dashes into the room, shouting, “Jeongin! There you are!”

 

Both Prince Chan and Jeongin startle and turn to face him, and in the process Jeongin bumps into Chan, causing him to lose his grip on the camera. Almost as if in slow motion, Jeongin watches as it falls with a crash, cracking open on the marble floor. The black shards contrast starkly against the white marble, and the only thing Jeongin can think of is to stupidly say, “My camera…”

 

“Fuck,” Prince Chan says simultaneously as Jisung whistles, “Shit, bro.” At that, Prince Chan looks back up and points in Jisung’s direction. “Jisung. We should talk. Without our guest present.” With that, he grabs Jisung’s arm and pulls him off down the hallway leaving Jeongin standing around, dumbfounded, until Jisung turns and gestures at him to follow along. 

 

Jeongin trails behind awkwardly until they reach an empty room and Prince Chan enters with Jisung in tow, sliding it shut in Jeongin’s face. He stands outside, clutching pieces of broken plastic and glass in his hands, fidgeting as he tries not to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

 

He really does try not to listen, but as Prince Chan’s anger grows, so does his voice and it ricochets through the walls like bullets and surrounds Jeongin as he stands there, frozen, even though he isn’t the one being yelled at. 

 

“Calling me at four in the morning and expecting me to remember it the next day does not count as twenty-four hour notice! When will you learn that you have a _responsibility_ as a member of the royal family?” Chan shouts, and Jeongin gasps in surprise. 

 

“Stop yelling! The walls are _literally_ paper thin!” Right as Jisung says that, his fist smashes through the rice paper stretched across the door frame. “Oh, I did not mean to do that hyung, I really am sorry about that.”

 

“His Highness is going to kill me for that,” the prince groans and Jeongin winces for his sake. 

 

“Will you untwist your panties for one second and just call him your dad? Jeongin doesn’t even care, right Jeongin?” and suddenly Jisung’s face is peering at him through the hole in the door. 

 

“Care about what?” Jeongin says, eyes darting around as he tries to take in all of this new information. “That you’re a member of the royal family?”

 

“Yeah!” Jisung says, opening the door and pulling him in, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere surrounding them at this moment. Jeongin leaves a trail of plastic shards behind him as his arm is jostled by Jisung’s pull. “You seemed pretty okay with it this whole time. Why else would I treat you so extra special,” he says, pinching Jeongin’s cheeks and displaying him to Prince Chan as if he were a little stray puppy Jisung had picked up off of the streets. “He doesn’t bite, I promise. No bomb threats either!”

 

“I… Whatever,” Chan gives in, and Jeongin can’t help but stare at the creases in his eyebrows and the frown on his lips and feel incredibly chastised. “Just. Take him home, Jisung.”

 

Jeongin knows this is bad timing, but he takes the opportunity to turn to Jisung and say, “I genuinely didn’t know you were a member of the royal family.” 

 

Both Jisung and Chan turn to stare at him in shock before Jisung sighs, shaking his head as he says, “Wow. No wonder they say you have an innocent brain.” Turning his attention back to Chan, he fakes an exaggerated bow before leading Jeongin out with a wave, “Say hi to Kuncle for me!” shutting the door on the prince’s groan. 

 

“Is this real life?” Jeongin wonders as they leave the grounds in Jisung’s car. 

 

“Of course. How else could I afford a Porsche?”


	4. Interlude pt. 2: Dream Sequence Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we have to stop running into each other like this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: i didn't clarify in the first interlude, but any of the dream sequences are essentially, Jeongin (or Chan or who have you really) dreaming of an alternate reality set in ancient korea in which 3racha are still monarchs, jeongin is still a commoner/peasant
> 
> hope that clarifies lol
> 
> p.s. i changed my username lol so i'm just chewhy now

**Interlude pt. 2: Dream Sequence Continued**

 

_The town is abuzz with excitement and wonder, everybody flocking in from the countryside to get a glimpse at the extravagance of the Royal parade. There’s superstition that if you get close enough, the gold might rub off on you._

 

_Jeongin hops in and out between the crowds, pausing here and there to greet all the familiar street vendors, waving hello as he nicks a hot rice cake from Miss Ahyeon’s stall._

 

_Eventually, the crowd gets too thick for him to push through anymore and he clambers to a higher vantage point so he can see over all the sakkats. Holding himself up by a wooden pillar on a porch, Jeongin can catch the barest glimpses of the hand held carriage passing through. The litter’s roof is covered with a deep purple fabric that must have cost fortunes, adorned on the sides by gold and green tassels, a trademark of the prince. Before he is pushed down by the crowd, Jeongin thinks he sees the flash of a single, pale hand wave out of the litter, grabbing at some leaf, feather, or insect. Golden rings line each slender finger, which Jeongin can only make out by the bright reflection, glinting yellow and white in the rays of the sun._

 

_He isn’t able to push any closer, so Jeongin resigns himself to buying the rest of the goods his mother sent him to buy before heading down to filch a glimpse at the young scholars, maybe see if Woojin hyungnim has time to buy him a little food before heading back to his lessons. Jeongin will often visit the central institution, peering over the stone walls from a nearby tree or whatever is available as he mouths along to the lessons from that day._

 

_On his way to the other side of town, he finds himself daydreaming about the future. He inserts himself into the ranks of the scholars, going to class, getting an allowance, maybe even learning music or writing poetry. It’s an ambitious dream, but he can’t help but hope for more than the life he currently leads._

 

_Looking up from where he walks, he notices that he’s accidentally missed a turn, and finds himself in an unfamiliar location. Jeongin hears the tinkling notes of a gayageum on the other side of the stone wall and reaches up to try peer over, seeing if it will give him any clues as to where he is._

 

_At the last moment, his foot scrambles for purchase and he falls back, expecting to hit the ground but colliding with a soft body instead. Jeongin and the stranger he bumped into fall to the ground in a heap of white linen and purple silk, and Jeongin scrambles up quickly, afraid he has come into trouble with a nobleman._

 

_Turning around to quickly to help the man up and dust him off, his eyes trace the golden embroidery that distinguishes the robes from shoulder to shoulder, head to toe. The mark of a dragon stands out clearly, and that’s when Jeongin realizes who he stands in front of._


	5. Chapter III: Gifts and Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeongin is confused
> 
> and then!
> 
> jeongin is still confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh lordy i haven't updated this in almost a month and i am so terribly sorry about that! honestly not even sure if people are still reading but i promise i have it mostly all planned out, i just have to write it in between exams and homework and such... thank you so much for waiting guys, i hope you enjoy it~ comments and kudos are always appreciated <3

Chapter III: Gifts and Apologies 

 

The next morning, when Jeongin wakes he genuinely believes it was all a dream. Even when Seungmin comes to their next study session with extra copies of notes from math for Jisung and Jeongin, he’s still not sure that Jisung, his own _friend_ Jisung, just told him that he was royalty. 

 

It isn’t until he’s sitting in the library with Hyunjin and Seungmin later that week, Jisung finally not glued to his side for once in his life, that he remembers to ask, “Did you guys know that Jisung is related to the Royal Family?”

 

Seungmin just says, “Yes,” and keeps working silently while Hyunjin stops, closes his book, sets his hands in his lap, and looks Jeongin in the eyes. 

 

Jeongin looks back with wide and innocent eyes, genuinely full of confusion. After a few more moments of this staring contest, Hyunjin finally just sighs and says, “Jeongin. Remind me again how you got a scholarship to this school.”

 

“I— What?” Jeongin is honestly not sure how apparently everybody in the world knew about this very significant fact about their friend, but then he thinks back to the time on the elevator that first day, and as he starts to look back at every other moment when some girls would giggle at Jisung as he walked past or a teacher would turn to butter every time Jisung talked he realizes how oblivious he’s been this entire time. “Oh!” he shouts a little too loud, earning a stern glare from the librarian. “So when you said he was royalty, you meant _he was royalty_ ,” Jeongin continues at a slightly smaller decibel. 

 

At this point, Hyunjin has gone back to his reading as well, sighing with a shake of his head. “No wonder Jisung babies you so much. You really are way too innocent.”

 

Jeongin settles back into his chair, trying to finish his reading assignment but all he can do is think back on every moment he spent with Jisung so far. _Did I ever offend him? Or do something illegal? It’s probably not legal to make a your mom joke about a royal… Oh god, what have I done?_ By the end of their little study session, Jeongin’s read two chapters but doesn’t remember any of the content. 

 

As Seungmin packs up, he pats Jeongin on the shoulder reassuringly and says, “Don’t worry about it. Jisung liked you so much because you treated him like a normal kid. Just don’t change anything and you’ll be fine, I promise.”

 

—

 

Jeongin takes Seungmin’s advice to heart, and spends the next few days doing his best to “act normal”. And really, with the way that Jisung treats him, it’s easy. Surprisingly easy, even though, deep down, Jeongin knows it shouldn’t have ever been surprising in the first place. Just because Jisung had been born into royal blood, it doesn’t mean he isn’t the same friend who is always there by his side, always trying to pay for his meals even though they all have the same shitty dining plan provided by the school, always squishing Jeongin’s cheeks and calling him a little baby even though they’re only one year apart in age. 

 

Thing are, in fact, back to normal. And honestly, between all the school work, all nighter study sessions and midnight convenience store coffee runs, Jeongin almost forgets that he ever saw Jisung as anything other than your typical college student. _Almost_. 

 

 

—

 

One day, Jeongin gets a notification on his phone that he’s gotten a package in the mail, and he sighs as he heads down, thinking his mother has sent him more food. He thinks that they should be saving money on even the smallest things, and even though he’s grateful, so, so grateful whenever his mother tries to send him a care package, his heart breaks a little bit inside as he imagines the painstaking care and time she put into wrapping up the little snacks, picking out exactly his favorites to send off the Seoul. 

 

Even now, as he stands in line waiting at the mail room, he can’t help but feel a little tug on his heart as he thinks of what he’s missing right now back at home. His brother’s birthday is coming up soon, and their whole family is probably planning out another surprise party that never really manages to surprise his brother, scrapping together some extra change here and there to buy him that new expensive coat he had been drooling over online, or the latest technological gadget. His brother had chosen to stay at home to help out with the family restaurants instead of going to college, and Jeongin knows that both his mother and his brother cry about it, without the knowledge of each other, regretting what might have been but could never be. Jeongin zones out of where he stands, looking down at the shiny floor even in the basement of the building he lives in, knowing that this is an experience nobody else in his family will have, realizing the burden of anticipated success that he lives with. 

 

“Next!” The call of the mail room attendant shakes him out of his daze, and he steps back up to hand over his identification in exchange for his package. 

 

When he picks up the box, it’s smaller but heavier than expected, and the return address isn’t one that he recognizes. He’s lifts it up to his ear to shake it, but then thinks better of it and scurries off to his room to package it away. 

 

Once home, he scrounges around for a pair of scissors before spotting it peeking out from under the corner of his bed. Thinking to himself that he should tidy up his room before things get any more hazardous to his health, he saws along the edges of the tape, folding back the flaps of the box to reveal another box inside. 

 

Pulling it out and reading the label, he realizes he is looking at a a Canon EOS-1DX Mark II DSLR Camera. He only recognizes the name because he remembers lusting over it on his student Amazon account for about ten minutes before looking at all six thousand dollars of it in his cart before promptly deleting it, half in fear that he would accidentally click the wrong button and lose something that could spot a significant figure of his tuition. He looks back at the first cardboard box warily before reaching in a hand and pulls out _three_ lens packs. Each one costs a thousand more. 

 

With shaking hands, Jeongin gently returns the items into the box, and makes a mental note to buy packing tape from the bookstore later that day. He knows that there is no way that camera is meant for him, and he decides he’s much better off immediately returning it to the sender than trying to fend off a lawsuit or mail fraud and theft charge when the rightful owner tries to claim it. 

 

All he can do is pray that nothing happens to it in the meanwhile. 

 

As he goes off to class for the day, he tries to forget about the way it felt in his hands when he lifted it up for one minute before gently sliding it back into his box, and tries not to daydream for too long about how it might feel to snap even just one picture with it. 

 

—

 

“Are you still lusting after that camera, Jeongin?” Hyunjin asks him as they step out of class and say bye to Jisung and Seungmin. Hyunjin and Jeongin usually get lunch together on Wednesdays as they’re headed off to the same part of campus in about an hour after their class ends, while Jisung and Seungmin head to one of their government club activities. Looking back on it, Jeongin finds it a little ironic that a royal is regularly attending meetings for a club that occasionally seems like it wants to take down the government and see the country consumed by anarchy, but then again, Jisung always was a wild one. 

 

Jeongin rolls his eyes, kicking at a pebble in his path. “No. I just think it was a good camera.”

 

“If it cost $6,000 then it better have been,” Hyunjin agrees, nudging Jeongin’s shoulder. “Now, I can’t buy you that camera but how about some ramen?” 

 

“Fine, I’ll race you?” Jeongin says, jogging ahead with a laugh. 

 

“What are we, kids?” Hyunjin says, still speeding up to catch up, but then coming to a sudden halt as he sees Jeongin crash into a well dressed man up ahead. “Oh shit! Are you alright?” he calls, running to check up on the commotion. 

 

“I am so terribly sorry,” Jeongin apologizes bowing low again and again. 

 

“That’s fine, I’m not hurt,” a voice that Jeongin vaguely recognizes speaks up. Looking up, he recognizes the guard from the palace that day a few weeks ago. 

 

“Oh! You’re…“ Jeongin has never been good with names, and he struggles to keep his face from getting any redder as he tries to recall the other’s name.

 

“Minho,” the guard supplies, and Jeongin nods. 

 

“Jeongin? Are you okay? Who is this?” Hyunjin asks, nodding in Minho’s direction. 

 

“Oh!” Jeongin says, swiveling around to face him. “This is Minho. I met him with Jisung a few weeks ago.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Minho says, extending a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. When Hyunjin warily shakes it, Minho continues, “By the way, I’m actually here to see Jeongin. Would you mind if I could borrow him for a bit?”

 

Hyunjin raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking Minho up and down. There’s not necessarily anything wrong with him, per se, but the stiffly pressed black suit, slicked back hair and sly smile doesn’t sit well with Hyunjin. “Well, it’s up to Jeongin. He’s not a thing you can borrow.”

 

“Of course,” Minho says, and Hyunjin can’t help but feel like he’s being indulged. “Jeongin, would you mind coming with me for a little bit?”

 

Bewildered Jeongin just nods, “Sure,” and Hyunjin can’t help but feel a little bit put off. 

 

“Come back soon!” he calls after Jeongin’s retreating back. “The ramen will get cold!” Hyunjin can’t help but imagine Jeongin as some child frolicking off to some stranger who claims he has candy in his van, but if this Minho guy knows Jisung, Hyunjin is just going to have to trust him. 

 

—

 

Jeongin finds himself being lead to a slick black car that he’s 99% sure he’s seen in countless k-dramas where the main character female gets kidnapped by a loan shark or something. Luckily, when Minho opens the door it reveals the smiling face of Prince Chan. Then Jeongin remembers the situation in which they previously met, and decides to hold off on using the adverb “luckily” to describe this latest encounter.

 

“Oh. Your Highness, I didn’t realize… Wait, are you here to see me?” Jeongin stutters out. Minho nudges him into the car after they standing there waiting for too long and Jeongin stumbles in. “Um. I’m sorry, what’s going on?”

 

Prince Chan laughs, apologizing, “Sorry, I realize now that this setup seems rather weird. I’d just rather not be seen by the paparazzi or anything. I wanted to meet you to personally apologize for what happened last week.”

 

“I’m— Wait. You? Want to apologize,” Jeongin asks, bewildered. “ _I’m_ the one that should apologize for trespassing!” 

 

Prince Chan laughs, and Jeongin finds himself a little drawn to it. It’s not as royal and stately as he expected. Honestly, it’s more of a wheeze than anything, and Jeongin is 85% sure these thoughts are bordering on treason but he finds it _endearing_ and he has to smack his own hands from reaching out to squish the prince’s cheeks. 

 

“No, no need to apologize. Jisung probably didn’t tell you a single thing, his head is so far up his own ass he assumes everybody knows who he is,” Chan says. “I was actually hoping you might have some time right now. Could I buy you lunch? I’m sure this cramped car isn’t exactly the nicest setting for this conversation.”

 

Jeongin is, once again, bewildered but he just can’t give up the offer of free food. He’s a college student, it’s in the rulebook that rejective free food is simply not an option. “I mean. I have an hour or so before I have to get to class, I guess.”

 

“Great, we’ll go somewhere nearby, then,” Chan says, giving a nod to Minho who is waiting in the driver’s seat.

 

—

 

They end up at one of the fancier restaurants a few minutes from campus. Jeongin hasn’t ever been, as he tends not to eat out anywhere other than the nearest convenience store. It’s not exactly a place fit for a prince, either, so Jeongin isn’t sure how they ended up here until he sees Minho nod at the hostess who leads them to a back room.

 

“Jisung really likes this place, and we eat here when I visit him sometimes,” Prince Chan explains. “Feel free to have whatever on the menu.”

 

Jeongin instinctively goes to choose the cheapest thing on the menu, but the prince laughs and says, “Are you sure? I promise the steak is really good.”

 

Internally, Jeongin is screaming at the string of digits on the page. Outwardly, he says, “Okay. I’ll have that.” Internally, he continues to scream as he wonders what in the world is going on as he sits here across from the First Heir to the Throne of the Constitutional Monarchy of South Korea. It’s really fucking weird. After an awkward pause, he remembers to add, “Your Highness.”

 

“Just call me Chan. Actually, the real reason I wanted to speak with you is a little different,” Prince Chan speaks as they wait for their meal. 

 

_Here it comes_ , Jeongin thinks, resigned to being thrown in prison for treason, trespassing, what have you. 

 

“I did, of course, want to apologize for breaking your camera.”

 

“Oh?” Jeongin hears the word slip out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “Sorry! Continue, I didn’t mean to interrupt you! Your Highness.” 

 

“Right,” Chan says, chuckling. “But what I wanted to talk to you about was that I saw that you returned the camera I sent you? I couldn’t remember which one you had so I tried to find the best one, but I apologize if you weren’t satisfied.”

 

“What?” Jeongin is thoroughly confused.

 

“Just in case, I had another one custom designed for you, and I really do hope that you’ll accept this one, I would truly feel terrible otherwise.” As if on cue, Minho whips out a black case Jeongin hadn’t seen before and sets in on the table next to Jeongin.

 

“What?” Jeongin is still confused. Then he remembers the camera he had gotten in the mail a few weeks prior. “Oh! Wait, what?”

 

“Here, open it and see if you like it, I can order another one if you don’t like the design,” Chan says.

 

Jeongin opens it cautiously, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. If the last one had been six thousand, then this one must be more expensive, and Jeongin’s afraid to breathe onto it wrong, just in case. He pulls it out of the case, and it’s sleek, so sleek. Turning it around, he sees that their a golden engraving of his name on the side, just above the Royal Seal of Korea. On the other side, there’s also an engraving of Chan’s name, too? Jeongin thinks he might _actually_ pass out. 

 

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t accept this! This is too much, my camera didn’t even cost half of half of this! I’m really fine but you don’t have to give this to me,” Jeongin answers. He’s pretty sure he’s sweating enough to fill the Han River at this point, and quickly (but gently) sets the camera down on the table. 

 

“Do you not like it? I’ll request another design then,” Chan says, and he sounds rather disappointed. “I’m really sorry about my name being on the side, there was a mistake and I think they thought it was for me at first, I can get a new one made for you without that.” Jeongin is pretty sure that Minho’s ragged breathing in the corner is the sound of him trying to cover up his laughing. 

 

“No! I love it! It’s amazing! I just can’t take it for nothing, I’m sorry,” Jeongin explains. He can’t believe he is actually rejecting the prince of Korea, but he’s pretty sure he’s going to have guilt nightmares for weeks if he accepts it.

 

“Please, take it! I promise it’s out of my own pocket and not tax money or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Chan reassures him. 

 

Jeongin chokes when Chan says _tax money_ , for a moment having forgotten Prince Chan’s status in favor of camera lust. In fact, Jeongin isn’t sure when Prince Chan became Chan in his head, and mentally berates himself for the blasphemy of his thoughts. “It’s not that, I just feel guilty taking it from you when all I did was trespass into your own home.” Jeongin is determined to explain himself until Chan concedes. 

 

“But I broke your camera,” Chan insists. “And it isn’t for free, you would be taking pictures with it, and sharing it and adding to the community of arts and culture of our nation. Truly, I encourage the pursuit of the arts, and I implore that you take this.”

 

Some of that phrase goes wildly over Jeongin’s head as it gets borderline 18th century historical drama, but he firmly shakes his head no.

 

Finally, Minho intervenes. “Jeongin, the Prince commands that you take it. Just pay him in return by sending him some of your pictures. Also, you might want to take the camera off the table before the food arrives and gets spilled on it.”

 

“But—“ Jeongin attempts to protest once more.

 

“Jeongin. If you don’t take that camera, it is going in the trash. It has your name engraved on it so nobody else is going to take it.”

 

At that moment, the food arrives and Jeongin resigns himself to taking the camera for now, if only to protect it from food spills. 

 

 

— 

 

Eight hours later finds Jeongin sitting on the floor in front of his chair turned table, squinting at the gold decoration on the camera.

 

“Jeongin. Are you still sitting there? It’s been four hours, can you please move and let me know that you’re alive?” Felix says, passing by. “What’s so special about this camera anyway,” he says, reaching a hand out to grab it. 

 

With a smack, Jeongin flicks Felix’s hand away. “Don’t touch.” When Felix’s hand moves to the three lenses sitting side by side next to the camera, Jeongin slaps that too. “No.”

 

Felix raises both hands and backs away slowly, “I’m going to go take a call. You… Do you, buddy.”

 

“Wait! Felix, I’m sorry, I’m just shaken,” Jeongin says, snapping back to this plane of thought.

 

“Why?” Felix asks, still standing five feet away.

 

“I just. Who uses the word _must_ in casual conversation?”


	6. Interlude pt. 3: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, Continued

**Interlude pt. 3: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, Continued**

 

_“Imperial Crown Prince,” Jeongin gasped, lowering himself to the ground until his forehead touched the gravel at his feet. “I apologize, I did not realize you would be here.” Jeongin clenches his eyes shut as he sees black boots approaching him until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder._

 

_“Stand. You do not need to bow in front of me. I have no guards with me to tattle tales,” Chan says, crouching down to be at eye-level with Jeongin. “Just for now, treat me as a brother. I command— no, I ask this of you, not as your prince but as a fellow citizen.”_

 

_When Jeongin finally raises his head, he sees a face that should only be a few years older than his, and yet the Crown Prince’s eyes are filled with responsibility and sorrow and regret. It is not the expression of a poor child, and yet Jeongin feels pity for him, as if he is the broken-winged sparrow from children’s fables._

 

_He knows now that all those wishes and prayers and oaths saying that he would give anything to trade places with this man are for naught. And so he follows along, doing what little he can to provide the smallest reprieve for the prince. “Then, what shall I call you?”_

 

_“My name,” he says, the hints of a smile beginning to grow on his face, “is Chan.” Jeongin nods, clasping Chan’s hand as he scrambles to get up from the position he was kneeling in._

 

_“And I am Jeongin. What brings you to this humble town, strange traveler Chan?” Jeongin asks, mischievous smile adorning his face._

 

_“Adventure. I hope to live my life as I want it at least once before my coronation. I seek that you would help me in my endeavors,” Chan responds, a glimmer of childish hope sparking alive in his eyes._

 

_Jeongin nods solemnly, though the smile remains hooked up on his ears. “It seems that you have found your guide.”_

 

_Together, they walk onwards, following the sounds of music as it beckons them forth._


	7. Chapter IV: The Media Shitstorm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should be studying for exams i guess but oh whale here's a short update

Chapter IV: The Media Shitstorm

 

“So I was thinking,” Hyunjin says, finally pulling his head out of his textbook. “We should really get out of this god awful library. I think I’m going insane.”

 

“Yes! Oh my goodness, yes, please,” Seungmin says, groaning as he cracks his back in an attempt to sit up straight. Jeongin winces at the ten billion crunching noises that follow along. 

 

“I’m down,” Jisung says, returning from his so-called ‘bathroom break’ that began a couple of hours ago. He also has a tray of coffee in his hands, so it honestly doesn’t matter where he’s gone, anything Jisung does is worth worshipping at this point. “The weather is so nice. Sweaters, orange trees, husky throaty fall vibes playlist on Spotify? I fucking love it!”

 

“Watch your language,” Hyunjin shushes before sitting up straight. “Jeongin, you have your camera, right?”

 

“Huh?” Jeongin says, wiping down his glasses. Somehow through the course of the day, he’s gotten drool on it, and while scientifically inaccurate, he is ten hundred percent sure that his hearing gets worse when he can’t see. 

 

“Of course he does,” Jisung says. “The kid hasn’t parted with it since he spent that entire week purifying himself in his room to make sure he was worthy of Nikon or whatever. Hey, don’t you find it ironic that the prince of Korea is getting his cameras imported from Japan? This would make some a really juicy tabloid speculation, how much money do you think I could make selling it?”

 

“Jisung. We already know you’re the real writer behind the _Ask Amy_ column at the school paper. And please stop selling your family for money,” Seungmin says. “Anyway, why did you ask, Hyunjin?”

 

“I was thinking, with the weather and all, we could do a photoshoot outside! The leaves are changing color and the sun is just so warm, it would be perfect!” Hyunjin explains. 

 

Seungmin squints at him, “This wouldn’t have to do with needing new headshots for your interviews and auditions, would it?” 

 

Sheepishly, Hyunjin scratches his head, mussing up his hair which Seungmin reaches out a hand to pat down. “I mean, maybe. But also I still think that the weather is just really nice and we could use a good break from studying. Photoshoots never hurt anyone now, have they?”

 

“We should ask Jeongin, though. It is his camera. What do you think, Jeongin?” Seungmin asks, turning to face him. 

 

Jeongin just smiles and nods, so that’s that and they all pack up their bags and troop outside. 

 

As they laugh and throw leaves in each other’s faces, Jeongin captures every moment. At one point, Jisung asks him is he’d like to get some pictures himself, but Jeongin refuses, explaining that he doesn’t much like being on camera himself. 

 

“This is strange, you know,” Jisung comments as the breathlessly heave themselves on a bench to take a break from the running around while Seungmin, who has just lost their quick game of rock, scissor, paper runs off to grab some hot chocolate from the Starbucks down the street. 

 

“What is?” Jeongin asks absentmindedly as he fiddles with the camera. He’s scrolling through their pictures from the past half hour and he’s pleasantly satisfied with the quality of some of these pictures. He comes across one that’s mid-shot of Hyunjin sneezing, and tilts the screen over to Jisung so he can see. 

 

Jisung laughs before continuing, “Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure there are some paparazzi taking photos of me. You know, not to brag or anything but, I’m just that attractive.” When Hyunjin punches Jisung in the arm they all laugh, “I’m kidding, jeez. Nah, I just find it funny that they’re taking pictures of us taking pictures, you know, picture-ception or whatever.”

 

“You are attractive, hyung!” Jeongin says smiling up at Jisung and Hyunjin turns his head to fake a gag. 

 

“Wow, the cheese.”

 

Jisung is about to punch Hyunjin back when Seungmin returns with the drinks, narrowly stopping another one of their quarrels. “Whatever, just send me that picture of Hyunjin sneezing,” Jisung grunts, settling for blackmail instead of a physical fight for the moment. 

 

And so they sit there, collapsed against each other on the bench each nursing piping hot drinks except for Seungmin who says he likes his coffee black and cold like his heart while they forget about exams and stress and school and in Jisung’s case, the future of the nation. And Jeongin decides, in that moment, that things are okay. He’s satisfied with his life, just the way it is. 

 

—

 

The next morning, Jeongin wakes up still floating on a high from the day before, recalling how he had fallen asleep while editing some of the better photos so that he could send it to Seungmin, Jisung, and Hyunjin. 

 

He opens up his browser to Facebook to share the photos, only to find his notifications bombarded by a ridiculous number of tags and comments and friend request. Flustered, he immediately shuts his computer without clicking anything and is still sitting in the same position scratching his head when Felix walks through the door, towel around his neck. 

 

“Oh, Jeongin, you’re awake,” he says, going to his drawers. When Jeongin doesn’t respond, Felix turns back around and waves his hand in his face. “Jeongin? Are you okay?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Jeongin says, blinking himself back out of his daze. “I think. I got hacked or something. My Facebook has so many notifications but I don’t think I even have a hundred friends,” he says, finally opening up his computer to look again. 

 

He scrolls through miles of friend requests that he doesn’t know before refreshing the page back to the timeline. “This is weird. Wait. Is that… a picture of me?” 

 

Felix hops off his bed to look over Jeongin’s shoulder. “Oh shit. I didn’t know you had a sugar daddy,” he reads off the page laughing.  


“Wait what the heck is going on?” Jeongin says. He can physically feel the blood draining from his face as he continues scrolling, just seeing different articles of himself all over his timeline. Finally, he clicks on one from a site called “allkpop” (even as Felix whispers from Jeongin’s side, “Don’t read that one, that’s actual trash”) and opens to a picture of himself from yesterday. 

 

“Well. It looks like Dispatch got to you. Sorry about that,” Felix says. “I didn’t realize you were dating the prince though? That’s pretty cool because I’m—“

 

“What?!” Jeongin exclaims. “Dating the prince? Me?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Felix says, looking a little peeved about being cut off as he points his finger down the screen. “You’re like, a really slow reader.”

 

_According to Dispatch, Yang Jeongin, a student at Sungkyunkwan University and close friend of Han Jisung, the nation’s most beloved royal, has captured the heart of Prince Chan. Yang Jeongin was captured by Dispatch going on a romantic lunch date with Prince Chan a few weeks ago where he received a very expensive camera rumored to be $8,000 or more as a gift._

 

_Based on these pictures, it seems Jeongin is absolutely smitten as he hasn’t been seen without the camera since. Prince Chan is a bit of a romantic himself, as it seems he has engraved his name into the side of the camera, perhaps so that Jeongin will always be thinking of him?_

 

_What do you guys think of this new royal couple? Comment below!_

 

Once Jeongin gets to the end, he just lets out a garbled choking noise as he scrolls further down, looking at the comments. “Wh? Gur?”

 

“Um, Jeongin? Are you okay? Is that Korean?” Felix asks, now genuinely worried.

 

“Haha,” Jeongin lets out a soulless laugh, and now Felix is terrified. “Jeongin?”

 

“This isn’t real,” Jeongin decides, closing his laptop and crawling back into bed. “Felix, remind me to tell you about my crazy dream when I wake up, ok?”

 

Felix stands there bewildered as Jeongin goes back to sleep, and makes a mental note to get Seungmin’s notes for Jeongin for the day. 

 

—

 

“Jeongin. Please. It’s been a week, you can’t just hide from the world forever,” Felix pleads. Jeongin just shifts a little under the blanket so that his legs are better tucked away from the world. “Come on, Jisung is asking for you, don’t be like this.”

 

“Felix,” Jeongin says, finally pulling the blanket down from his face. “Can I ask you a favor?”

 

“Yes! Of course, anything, please just talk to us,” Felix begs.

 

“You see that box over there? Can you send it to the post office? Thanks.” And with that, Jeongin retreats back into the safety of his blankets. 

 

Felix shakes his head, turning to the box and lifting it up. “What is this anyway?” Felix asks, lifting it up to his ear.

 

When he goes to shake it, Jeongin finally bolts upright shouting, “No! Don’t do that!”

 

“Oh. It’s the camera isn’t it.” Jeongin doesn’t respond, opting to dive under the covers with another huff, but Felix can tell he’s right. “If I do this, you have to promise to come outside with me this weekend, okay?” he sighs. 

 

“Maybe, if I’m not dead by then,” Jeongin says, voice muffled by his sheets. 

 

Felix rolls his eyes as he leaves, reassured that Jeongin is feeling better enough to be a drama queen. 

 

Once Jeongin hears the click of the door as Felix exits the room, he rolls back over to his phone where he’s been scrolling through articles and comments all week long. His phone has blown up with calls and text messages, some from Jisung, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, others from kids he knew in middle school that he hasn’t talked to since then. All of them sit unread except for his family’s group chat where all he’s said is that he’s ok and to not read the articles. 

 

For some strange reason, Jeongin can’t even take his own advice, and finds himself back on Naver, looking up his own name. All of his social media accounts have long been deleted by now, but screenshots of his old Instagram and Facebook photos float around the web, sitting there ready for people to jump on and comment on. 

 

He scrolls down the links to hundreds of articles speculating his identity as a gold digger, sugar baby, future monarch and more. When he’s had enough, he closes the app and thumbs over to his voicemail box so that he can listen to the same message for the eightieth time that week. 

 

“ _Hello, Jeongin. It’s me, Chan. I asked Jisung for your number._ ”

 

Jeongin shuts off the phone. Takes a deep breath. Opens it again.

 

“ _Hello, Jeongin. It’s me—_ “

 

He can’t do it, he just can’t do it. 

 

After a few more seconds of just laying there in silence, listening to the birds chirping outside and feeling the sun hitting his face as it climbs higher and higher into the sky, he goes back to his web surfing. 

 

As he scrolls through the pictures and articles, he finds that a part of him is over it now. At first, he cried because of some of the more degrading comments, calling him a peasant or a commoner, unfit for the king. He’s not sure why he even cried when he has zero real relation to Prince Chan other than two awkward chance encounters. 

 

Then, he started leaving angry comments, trying to defend his family when he saw comments pop up about with photos of his brother and mother serving people in the family restaurant, calling them ugly or fat or slow. 

 

Now, he’s apathetic. Perhaps even a little gleeful as the only entertainment he’s left with after the past week is to make ridiculous egg accounts that leave troll responses to troll comments. 

 

_User sen10 commented: I heard nobody at skku has seen the kid since the news erupted, what happened_

 

_User sheeepfox replied: I go to school with him, he lives in my dorms. He hasn’t been coming out of his room because I hear he got abducted by a dragon on purpose so that the prince would come save him_

 

He squints at his own writing, deciding that it’s pretty weak on the scale of troll comments but he’s run himself dry for the day. After some more mindless scrolling and commenting here and there on pictures of him from five years ago saying, “Damn, best glow up I’ve ever seen” he finally finds himself back in his voicemail box. This time, he musters up the courage to put it on speaker and throws the phone across the room immediately after hitting play so that he won’t be able to pause it again. 

 

It lands over on Felix’s bed with a light bounce and Chan’s voice floats over to him across the room.

 

“ _Hello, Jeongin. It’s me, Chan. I asked Jisung for your number. I just wanted to call you to check up on you and see if you are doing well with this sudden news. I don’t know how the media ended up interpreting our interactions in the way that they did, but then again, they’ve always been waiting for me to mess up so they must really be having a field day._ ”

 

There are a few beats of silence filled only with the soft whoosh of Chan’s breathing as Jeongin imagines him thinking to himself. 

 

“ _Not that, of course, not that I did mess up, and not that you were at fault for anything at all. Because nothing really did happen, right?_ ”

 

For some reason that Jeongin can’t fathom, he feels something like disappointment stir in the bottom of his chest. 

 

“ _Anyways. I apologize about the mess. If you could contact me back, then perhaps we could talk things out before I make a public announcement to clarify things and then hopefully everything will go back to normal. Of course, I would completely understand if you didn’t want to talk to me at all, in which case I will wait a fortnight before telling the media that you just ended up being collateral damage. Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I mean. I’m really not sure what I’m saying at this point._ ”

 

Jeongin giggles at this point. There’s just something about the rambling that is so cute. And so he sits there, snuggled in a mountain high pile of comforters as he lets the soft cadences of Chan’s voice rambling on and on lull him back to sleep where he’s no longer plagued with nightmares of giant bug men chasing him down with cameras.

 

Moments later, Felix enters the room and finds Jeongin drooling into his own lap with his phone still sitting on Felix’s bed. He picks it up to turn it off and return it to Jeongin but notices that a voicemail is still playing. 

 

“Who the fuck leaves a voicemail that’s thirteen minutes long?”


	8. Interlude pt. 4: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, Continued

**Interlude pt. 4: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, Continued**

 

_They walk through the grassy fields bordering on the edge of woodland. The sun is beginning to set, and Chan turns to Jeongin, about to say something when suddenly he is cut off by shouts that fill the air followed by the heavy thudding of horses galloping. Before they know it, they are blinded by the glints of blades and arrowheads as they are surrounded on all sides. “Bandits,” Chan growls._

 

_Subconsciously, Jeongin lifts up his two fists in front of his face while he turns so that his back aligns with Chan’s._

 

_“Wipe that ugly sneer off of your face and show us a little smile, why don’t you,” one man says. His face is hidden behind a black veil, but his stance and posture show his lack of fear. “No royal wave for us outlaws, huh? I reckon some would call this discrimination.” The rest of the bandit pack jeer in agreement and Jeongin feels Chan’s back stiffen against his._

 

_“We want no trouble, just leave us be,” Chan says, and even though Jeongin has only known him for a few hours now, if even that, he can imagine the fierce and commanding look on his face._

 

_“We? Who’s this little beggar, anyway. Your bodyguard?” Another of the bandits approaches closer, nudging Jeongin’s shoulder with his club._

 

_Before Chan has a chance to speak a word, Jeongin growls, “Yes, I am. If you want to lay your hands on him, you’ll have to get through me, first.”_

 

_The bandits laugh in his face, looking Jeongin’s small stature up and down, and Chan lays a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. “Just let us go in peace, my family will pay whatever ransom you desire. Don’t hurt the boy.”_

 

_A loud guffaw rings from the back and the bandits part down the middle to reveal what must be the leader. He heaves his horse forwards, pulling up short just this close to trampling Chan and Jeongin._

 

_“I don’t want your filthy money. I seek vengeance for my dead mother, who perished at your dirty hands,” the leader of the pack exclaims, ripping off his mask._

 

_Chan gasps, “Changbin… Why are you— I thought you were dead!”_

 

_“So far as the world knows, I am dead. And now, so are you.”_

 

_And with those words, Jeongin’s world is flipped upside down as he feels a sharp blow to the back of his head before promptly blacking out._


	9. Chapter V: Poems and Night Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for the wait guys but dont worry! i haven't abandoned this! i promise!

Chapter V: Poems and Night Lights

 

 

“Hey,” Felix says, reaching over and patting Jeongin’s hands as they shake in his lap. It’s a tremor that really can’t be excused by the vibrating of the cab beneath them, and it’s obvious as Jeongin flinches every time the headlights of another car shines too harshly in through the windows. “I’m really glad you decided to come out with us.”

 

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me, I hope I’m not intruding,” Jeongin answers, taking deep breaths to try to calm his nerves. It probably doesn’t help that he never much liked going out before unless protected on all sides by his friends, but now that he fears that everybody is watching him, he wasn’t sure that he would have ever dared to venture outside again had it not been for Felix.

 

Really, the only reason that Felix managed to convince him was because of how absolutely hipster he is, enough so that Jeongin trusts him when he says that it’s a tiny hole in the wall place, nobody with a name worth knowing comes there because nobody has a name. Also because apparently Australians couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about the Korean political system, and therefore pays no mind to the fact that Jeongin is being paraded as the Gay Meghan Markle of South Korea on the cover of tabloids in every convenience store one steps into.

 

It’s not the typical place Jeongin sees himself going to, as he’s rather drawn towards bright lights, candy floss, and amusement parks himself but he doesn’t mind music, the jazz and poetry that Felix has described to him. From the way Felix talks about it, it sounds like an incredibly sentimental place full of memories stacked on top of another, so gently placed and intricately nestled within one another that they just might fall over like a tower of Jenga blocks if the wrong one is pulled away.

 

“Oh look, we’re here!” Felix says, thanking the driver as he pulls Jeongin out behind him.

 

Jeongin steps out, looking around and half of him is glad to see that Felix was absolutely correct when saying that no paparazzi would find them there while the other half of him is tempted to turn around and run to the safety of his covers as he observes the litter of cigarette butts scattered on the street side tracing into a door dappled with a mess of paint, flyers, and stickers. Over the door hangs a neon sign labeling the place _Cloud -9_ although the - and 9 flicker in and out in alternating beats.

 

Before Jeongin can actually run away, a shadowy figure steps out from a crack in the wall that Jeongin wouldn’t have been able to identify as an alleyway even with a flashlight. “Hey, you’re just on time for my performance. Come on in.”

 

The stranger slips in through the door without even a look back, and when Jeongin looks to Felix in confusion, Felix just shrugs with a wry smile saying, “Meet my boyfriend. He’s kind of considered royalty here.”

 

It’s a little bit less cozy and romantic than Felix really made it sound, a halfway mix between a bar and a coffee house with drinks and stools on one side and mismatched couches and furniture on the other end. It’s still hipster enough, though, Jeongin notes as he looks around at the vinyl records that decorate the walls, little strings of origami and notes hanging down from the ceilings.

 

It’s unique, and it’s quiet, and nobody gives Jeongin a second glance when he walks through the door so he decides it’s safe.

 

“Do you want a drink?” Felix asks, interrupting Jeongin’s thoughts. When Jeongin looks uncomfortably at his hands, Felix laughs and pats his back. “No worries, they really don’t mind if you just sit and hang for the open mic and performances. We can take a seat now, Changbin should be on soon.”

 

As they sit down on one of the couches near the makeshift stage, which is really just a few speakers place on a somewhat elevated platform that has one microphone standing in the center, Jeongin asks, “Changbin? Do I know him? That name seems familiar.”

 

Felix shrugs, “I dunno, maybe. He doesn’t go to our school, so you probably wouldn’t know him through there. Mostly just poops around in his studios or house all day, he’s kind of a bore. Hasn’t even traveled internationally.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Jeongin says, nodding sagely even though he really doesn’t. Mostly, he just tries to relax.

 

At that moment, a person walks out onto stage and it’s the guy from before, as Jeongin can recognize him by his clothes. As his gaze follows up to the face behind the mic, now unmasked, Jeongin gasps in surprise. “Wait. Is that…”

 

Felix laughs, looking up at the stage with glittering eyes. “Yeah, that’s Changbin. Handsome, isn’t he?”

 

“Sure,” Jeongin says. It isn’t until a moment later that he realizes how rude it sounded, but luckily Felix laughs it off. “It’s just. Isn’t that Seo Changbin?”

 

“Yes?” Felix says, looking at him questioningly. That’s when Jeongin finally realizes exactly to what extent Felix has been ignoring the government around him, and he just shakes it off, deciding to sit back and enjoy the performance.

 

The music is good but dark; a rap performance in place of the lyrical poetry that Jeongin expected to hear. It calls out the government, the media, the political system. It calls out society for turning its back and it calls out the audience for only listening. Most importantly, though, it calls out Jeongin’s inner thoughts.

 

He thinks back to what he knows of Changbin from the reports in the media that he’s somewhat been following, if only since he learned that Jisung was a royal so that he could seem less idiotic around Seungmin and Hyunjin who both had half a foot in politics at all times.

 

Most of his information on Changbin is shady, mysterious, leaked like secrets to gossip columns as they wonder about the whereabouts of the dark and unknown illegitimate heir of the throne. In fact, Jeongin only really recognizes Changbin’s face thanks to a few pictures Jisung has shown him from his camera roll or Snapchat.

 

It’s strange, as Jeongin thinks more, he realizes that, although at first he was afraid of the man he knew from the stories, a rebel, a bad boy, somebody who wanted to overthrow the throne (as if they were in some historical drama set during the Joseon era), he realizes that the song he hears has a meaning that’s applicable to both of their lives.

 

In reality, although Changbin shares royal blood, he’ll never be more than a glorified citizen, and he’s really unknown by anybody. Jeongin is the same way, except tied into the royal family through gossip and rumors of a relationship that doesn’t even exist in Jeongin’s own mind. The media that’s spread on them is full of speculation and ridiculous rumors, fed only by the hatred and malice of the masses against anybody with a name they can slander.

 

As Jeongin recognizes their similarities, he feels somewhat calmer, more welcome, and appreciative of the fact that Felix has brought him here. As Changbin’s set draws to a close, Jeongin leans over to Felix and speaks over the applause, “Thank you for bringing me out tonight. I really think I needed it.”

 

Felix smiles back, shrugging as he says, “No worries. Now, shall we go meet the artist? I have VIP passes.”

 

There isn’t a real backstage for them to go to, but Felix leads them to the barstools over on the other end, indicating to the bartender to get him a drink, and Jeongin a soda or something. Changbin meets them there, greeting Felix first with a small peck on the cheek before turning to face Jeongin.   


“Hey there, you must be Felix’s roommate,” he says, reaching out a hand.

 

Jeongin looks down at it dumbly for a couple of seconds before realizing it’s meant to be shaken and grabs it. “Oh, right, hi, yes! I’m Jeongin.” He feels like a fool already, but what’s new.

 

Changbin just laughs, and a little bit of Jeongin’s intimidation melts away. “Jeongin. Do I know you from somewhere?” Changbin asks as he hops up onto a stool.

 

A little devilish part of Jeongin notes with glee that it’s a bit of a struggle for Changbin to get his legs up high enough to pull himself up on, but he doesn’t comment since it’s their first encounter. And as nice as Changbin is, hearing his raps before meeting him has proven to be quite intimidating.

 

“Well, my name’s been floating around the news a little bit,” Jeongin sheepishly admits.

 

Recognition clicks on Changbin’s face as he nods and smiles wryly, “I see. We’re Dispatch buddies then, I suppose.”

 

It feels better now that Jeongin can openly talk to somebody about it without fear of judgment, especially because he knows Changbin has been equally slandered by the media. “Yeah. I’ve mostly been keeping inside these days though, so I hope it’s settled down somewhat.”

 

Changbin shrugs. “No new information just leads to outrageous speculations. But after a while, they do calm down somewhat. Don’t worry too much about it.”

 

It’s reassuring, and Jeongin is reminded of his older brother back home.

 

Oh shit.

 

His brother.

 

Suddenly, at that moment, Jeongin feels the burning of hundreds of missed calls sitting in his pockets, and as much as he would like to stay longer, he feels that it’s really time for him to excuse himself and get back home.

 

He tells Felix thank you, and that he knows how to catch a cab by himself. Turning to Changbin, he bows once again and compliments his tracks, telling him, “They were actually really comforting. I appreciate that a lot.”

 

Changbin’s grin grows, and Jeongin isn’t too sure in the dark but he thinks that there might be a glimmering of tears in his eyes as he reaches forward and pulls Jeongin into a tight hug. “You take care. And hey, I’m having a little get together at my apartment for my birthday. Nothing big, but you should come!”

 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” Jeongin answers. He’s surprised that he’s managed to get so close to somebody within hours of meeting them, but maybe at this point, he’s just craving human interaction. “I’ll see you around, then.”

 

“See you!” Changbin calls after him.

 

“I promise to be home by midnight!” Felix shouts, laughing. “Midnight tomorrow, maybe,” he adds on after a quick glance at Changbin.

 

Jeongin just laughs and heads out into the night.


	10. Interlude pt. 5: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, End

**Interlude pt. 5: Dream Sequence, Three Kingdoms of Silla Goguryeo Baekje, End**

 

 

_When Jeongin comes to, he first feels the rocking of waves underneath him and opens his eyes to see wooden planks on all sides._

 

_“Good morning, sweetheart. How would you like to join our pirate crew?” Changbin says, whispering into Jeongin’s ear. Jeongin stiffens against the hands holding him down as he spots Chan struggling on the other end of the room, mouth spitting and skin chafing against the rope bonds._

 

_“Oh, but he looks much too delicate,” Minho croons, crouching down and cradling Jeongin’s face. “A pirate? More like a prostitute. Oh! We could sell him, Felix says they rather like the exotic looking ones out in the west.”_

 

_“That’s true, that’s true,” Changbin says, nodding sagely as if he’s considering Minho’s words like scripture. “But no matter, we can always make him look the part. An eye patch might do the trick, what do you say?” Changbin asks._

 

_“Oh,” Minho groans, his voice full of sadistic pleasure, “That would be stunning. I think we have a spoon around here somewhere.” He begins rummaging through the drawers before finally pulling out a letter opener. “What do you think?” Minho asks, approaching Jeongin step by step._

 

_Jeongin spits in his face, but it doesn’t do much to stop the steel from inching closer and closer, and in fact only incites Changbin more as he snatches the metal out of Minho’s hands. He struggles, growling and groaning as Changbin looms closer and closer, yet even as he’s whimpering in pain, he thinks the worst part of it all might be Chan’s screaming growing hoarser and more desperate from the corners._

 

_The last thing Jeongin remembers before everything fades away is Chan’s voice, completely broken down whispering, “No, please. Hurt me instead. Don’t hurt him.”_

 

_—_

 

_The next time Jeongin wakes up, the world is dark and he feels drops of wetness falling on his cheeks. His head is pillowed in something soft, and as he feels Chan’s face caressing him and whispering apologies above him, he realizes his pillow must be Chan’s lap. For some reason, even with the horrific situation they’re in, Jeongin manages a small smile knowing that at the very least, they are together. He tries to speak and reassure Chan, but sleep overcomes him too quickly as he blisses out back into the darkness._


	11. Chapter VI: Adjusting and Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a lot of like mild exposition so i'm really sorry about that yall... just kind of getting a peek into jeongin's mind

Chapter VI: Adjusting and Things

 

Jeongin jolts awake in his bed, shivering in a cold sweat. He can’t remember exactly what he dreamt about, but he recalls purple fabric, the rocking of waves, and a warm embrace. He’s not sure whether it was a dream or a nightmare that woke him, but as he looks to his side he sees that his alarm clock blinks the green digits of 4:44 AM while his roommate continues to sleep in the bunk next to him. 

 

Jeongin flops back into bed, letting his head hit the pillow behind him as he pulls the blanket back up to his chin, but every time he lets his eyes drift closed, he finds himself snapping them back open immediately, wary of everything for some reason. Twenty minutes later, he decides that it’s no longer worth it to drift in and out of a restless attempt at sleep, and he pushes back the covers, sliding his feet into the slippers by his bed as he grabs his phone and shuffles out of the room. There’s nowhere to go at this time of morning, but nonetheless, Jeongin grabs his dorm keys and shuffles out to the elevator in the hallway. 

 

After a few moments of consideration, he decides to go down, thinking that maybe a breath of fresh air will do the trick and make him snap out of the daydream-like state he’s in. It isn’t until he steps outside that he recalls he is still dressed in his baggy sweatpants and ratty t-shirt, the slippers on his feet technically meant to be worn indoors, but he decides it isn’t worth all the effort to go back up. 

 

Adjusting the glasses on his head that he luckily remember to snag, Jeongin walks slowly down the sidewalk, meandering around campus and letting it lead him on whatever path it followed. Before he knows it, he finds himself in front of a small lake; it’s really more of a man-made pond, but watching the water ripple slightly in the morning breeze calms his pounding heart a little, so he parks his butt on a bench to take in the sunrise as streaks of orange blend into purple hues as the sun chases the night stars away. 

 

Watching the sunset makes him itch for his camera, old or new, to take photographs, but he has neither so he decides that fishing his 4th generation iPhone out of his pocket will have to do for now. 

 

He’s wistfully looking down at the photos, disappointed but not surprised at the lack of vibrancy in the pictures reflected on his screen when suddenly his alarm starts blaring and his jumps up off of the bench in surprise. 

 

Without knowing it, a whole hour had passed as Jeongin had sat there on the bench, and the time is already nearing seven in the morning so he picks himself up and jogs on back to the dorm to get ready for classes.

 

He’s been back to attending classes these days, but he sits by himself in the back of the room, hoodie pulled up and earbuds squished into his ears even though they don’t play music. The first few days, Hyunjin and Seungmin had waved at him, but they seem to have stopped once Jeongin continued to ignore them in favor of ducking his head down in the back of the classroom. 

 

Though Jeongin’s grade initially dipped during his short break from all things life-related, in the subsequent weeks during which Jeongin’s only social interactions are limited to the library and his room, all he has time to do it study to take his mind off of things. It’s not the most ideal life, but Jeongin reminds himself what he’s really here for - to get a good education, keep his scholarship, and hopefully get a good enough job so that he can provide for his family better in the future. 

 

It’s still lonely, though, and he finds himself calling home more and more often as he tries to keep himself from sinking too deep into his own thoughts. When he does, they regale him with the latest mischief his little baby cousins have been getting into or what’s been going on at the restaurant, and they mostly gloss over what he knows his parents must have seen on the news of his own current situation. Sometimes, though, his brother will tease him, not enough to push him over the edge but just enough to bring a blush and a smile to his face as his brother asks, “Does this mean I become a prince-in-law? Maybe I should have gone and seduced the princes instead, I’m a lot sexier than you are, little bro.”

 

Jeongin just laughs and protests, “Come on, clearly you’re the ugly brother,” meanwhile biting his lip as he thinks about Chan and wonders, who knows… Maybe in a different life they might have had a relationship not soured by tabloids and invasions of privacy but… Jeongin shakes his head and tries to focus in again on what his brother is saying now, some story about how girls have been flocking to their restaurant because of his own handsome face and how Jeongin has no right to call him, the eldest and therefore bestest brother, “ugly”. 

 

“So anyway,” Jungmin continues. “How’d you seduce him? With your lovely trot singing skills?” he snickers into the phone.

 

“Shut up!” Jeongin explains. “I did no such thing! He probably hates me. Or more likely he probably doesn’t even know who I am, he was just being nice because he broke my camera,” he huffs.

 

“Wait, what?” Jungmin says sharply. “He broke your camera?”

 

Jeongin winces, realizing only now that he had forgotten to inform his brother about that particular incident. “I’m sorry, it was my fault really. My hand slipped and then it just kind of fell and… I’m sorry, hyung. It really meant a lot to me.”

 

“No, no, no,” Jungmin answers, voice softening. “It was a shoddy old thing, anyway. I’m sure the new one you got from His Royal Highness is much better fit for your photography skills.”

 

“Still. You bought it for me.”

 

“And I knew it would break someday, as cheap and second hand as it was,” Jungmin says, dismissing Jeongin’s worries. “At least you’re still able to take pictures with a better camera, now.”

 

“Well, about that,” Jeongin mumbles out. “I gave the camera back.”

 

“What?!”

 

“I felt bad! I felt guilty! And it was causing all this trouble and I just…” Jeongin trails off as his brother heaves a huge sigh audible across the phone.

 

“Well then, I guess it’s up to me to sue the Royal Family for breaking your camera. And your heart,” he adds as a smug afterthought. 

 

“What? Shut up! I do not have feelings for Chan!”

 

“‘I do not have feelings for Chan’ yeah right. Since when were you on a first name basis with the Royal Family,” Jungmin mocks in a bad imitation of Jeongin’s voice. 

 

Jeongin can only sigh and laugh as he tries to steer the conversation away and back to how their parents are doing. 

 

\--

 

Life is manageable, though a little bit tedious. Currently, the only thing that he’s been looking forward to is Changbin’s birthday party at the end of the week. 

 

It’s funny, Jeongin realizes as he opens up his phone. They do talk, but they only communicate through email, as Changbin has sworn off of phones almost entirely. Jeongin comes to find that Changbin is unique in more ways than one, but he appreciates his newfound friendship for all that it is. 

 

On occasion, Jeongin will be reading through Changbin’s long rambles about the future, the past, and the present and Jeongin will see hints of Jisung’s influences, or perhaps Jeongin will remember bits of Jisung that were influenced by Changbin. 

 

Jeongin sometimes itches to grab his phone and just give Jisung a call because as much as he loves hiding, he also misses his friends. But then again, Jeongin has never been good at reaching out first - the only way he really became friends with Jisung was because the other kid had latched on first, and now that there’s no outstretched hand waiting for him, Jeongin really doesn’t know what to do with himself, other than wait. 

 

He’s in his room, slurping up some cup ramen that he cooked up in his microwave as he pretends not to be distracted by the YouTube video that’s playing on his computer screen where he should really be reviewing calculations of the country’s GDP instead, when Felix walks in, towel over his shoulder.

 

“Oh, hey Jeongin.”

 

“Hey, Felix. What’s up?” Jeongin says, not bothering to look up from his desk. He surreptitiously changes the tabs on his screen to his homework portal to make it seem like he’s being productive, though he knows full well that Felix could probably hear the sound of Twice’s latest comeback MV blasting from the other side of the room. 

 

“Ah, I just took a run. The weather’s absolutely beautiful outside - you should get out more, look at how pasty you are just sitting inside all day,” Felix says, flopping onto his bed with a groan. 

 

“You sound like my mom,” Jeongin answers, rolling his eyes. Nevertheless, he’s grateful that Felix is still worried about him, and not completely done with his various breakdowns and whining over the past few weeks. 

 

There’s a bit of silence interrupted only by Felix’s heavy breathing and Jeongin’s pen tapping against his papers before Jeongin swivels around in his chair. “By the way… Do you think you could help me with something?”

 

“Yeah, what is it?” Felix responds, sitting upright with some effort. 

 

Jeongin looks back to his computer, and then back to Felix. “For Changbin’s birthday, do you know what kind of gift he might like? I don’t know him very well at all so I just don’t really know what might be decent…”

 

Felix chuckles, laying back on his bed. “It’s fine, Changbin doesn’t want anything like that. Just show up and he’d be over the moon. It’s rare for him to find close friends so fast.”

 

Jeongin nods thoughtfully but still looks back at Felix. “Are you sure, though? I don’t just want to show up empty-handed.”

 

“I’m sure,” Felix answers. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m off to shower this sweat off of my body.”

 

Jeongin waves at Felix, already having turned back to his computer as he scours Changbin’s email correspondence for any useful information. He’s determined not to show up with nothing to give at all.

 

\--

 

In the end, Jeongin decides on a card. He doesn’t want to offend Changbin by bringing something when he shouldn’t have, but he also wants to be able to show his gratitude in some form to Changbin, so when he knocks on the apartment door marked 3C, he grips a handmade card tightly with his other hand. 

 

As he looks down the hallway on either side of him, observing the apartment, he wonders if he has the correct address after all. It’s not a shabby building by any means, especially for a young man in his 20s living on his own, but perhaps Jeongin hasn’t managed to quite clear away the stereotypes he’s stacked up from his limited visits to the Royal Estates and Jisung’s mansion. 

 

Everything is so much more… Normal. 

 

Finally, the door swings open, letting some soft yellow lighting and music leak into the hallway as Changbin greets him, smiling as he announces, “Welcome, Jeongin! Come on in, we’re just getting started.”

 

As Jeongin steps in and looks around the room, he finds that Changbin was mostly true to his word and the place is not nearly as jam-packed as Jeongin had imagined it to be, although it is still a fairly decently sized crowd. A few heads swivel over to look at him, but when he avoids eye contact they mostly all return to their conversations. 

 

Changbin points out, “There are some food and drinks in the kitchen, bathrooms are down the hall over there and yeah, feel free to mingle! I can introduce you to a few of my friends if you would like.”

 

“Oh, that’s fine,” Jeongin says. He’s not planning to make any new friends at the moment. “Oh, by the way,” Jeongin says, grabbing Changbin’s sleeve. “This is, um, it’s for you,” he thrusts the card into Changbin’s chest and waits for him to take it.

 

Changbin looks down at the card, and then back up at Jeongin before reaching over to ruffle Jeongin’s hair. “You’re a sweet kid, you know.”

 

“Um. I guess?”

 

Changbin opens it then and there, though, which was rather unexpected on Jeongin’s part as he sort of waves his hands around trying to stop the inevitable, but then suddenly Jeongin is being engulfed into a hug by Changbin as he whispers, “Thank you,” into Jeongin’s ear. 

 

When Changbin finally lets Jeongin go, he looks up and makes eye contact with Changbin for a second before saying, “What the hell, are you  _ tearing up _ ?”

 

“Shut the fuck up and go get some food,” Changbin says, pushing Jeongin away and towards the bathrooms. 

 

“Uh, those are the bathrooms-” Jeongin starts to say, but realizes that Changbin has already floated away, probably to grab a tissue or something. “Well then.”

 

Jeongin marches himself over to the kitchen where he finds a mini buffet of food waiting to be consumed. It’s a pretty decently sized spread, so he helps himself, making note of the cheesecake in the corner, another gentle reminder of Changbin’s similarities to Jisung. 

 

He’s about to turn around and head back to the living room to see if he can find Felix lurking around (probably hanging off of Changbin’s arm or something) when he accidentally crashes into somebody, spilling his sauce and shit all over what appears to be a designer suit. 

 

Even though Jeongin would be hard pressed to know the exact name as most of his business clothes come second hand from the career center, even he can tell that this is a luxury brand. So, of course, he subsequently panics and grabs a napkin off the table, attempting to wipe down the cloth but only further smearing it. “I’m sorry, I am seriously so sorry, I swear to you it was an accident and I…” 

 

He looks up into the eyes of the victim of his clutziness and finds none other than the prince, Prince Chan, second in line of succession to the throne of the Congressional Monarchy of South Korea.

 

In his mind, he thinks,  _ Deja vu _ .

 

Out loud, he says, “Fuck.”

 

But then, Chan laughs, and smiles, and Jeongin is kind of blinded and not sure why he has butterflies in his stomach and a part of him thinks,  _ I missed that laugh _ , even though he’s really only heard it a couple of times in his life before, until Chan opens his mouth and speaks.

 

“It’s fine. You must be one of Changbin’s friends, right?”

 

_ What. The. Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. trying very hard to finish this fic up soon, the plot is all planned out i just have to write it fat rip but i keep getting distracted by my upcoming art forgery jeongchan au and anyway thank u guys for sticking with this fic this far, i promise to try to update more regularly!


	12. Interlude pt. 6: Dream Sequence 2, Korean War, Beginnings

**Interlude pt. 6: Dream Sequence, Korean War, Beginnings**

 

_ “But Jeongin,” his mother cries, “We’re safe here. They’ll never come all the way down to Busan, why would you enlist and put yourself in danger? As our oldest son, wouldn’t you think of your family first?” At this point, she is practically sobbing into her rice.  _

 

_ Jeongin doesn’t bother to respond and merely throws his chopsticks down on the table with a clatter that silences everyone, except the television in the corner. On the screen, steady footage of the destruction and demolition of Seoul, their capital, is being streamed. Children and innocents run amok in the streets as bombshells drop down around them and they try to outrun tanks taking down entire homes and buildings. The crashes and clangs of the detonations echo out of the TV’s tinny speakers, forcing out even the claustrophobic panting of Jeongin’s whole family as they suffocate in a mixture of guilt and despair.  _

 

_ “Please, Jeongin,” his mother pleads, voice quiet and almost drowned out by the ceaseless explosions on screen. “For your family.” _

 

_ “Mother,” Jeongin sighs, attempting to hide the wobble appearing in his own voice. “I’m scared, too. But even our very own Prince has enlisted. I can protect our family by protecting our nation.” He reaches out a hand to cradle his mother’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that flow down like rivers. “At least give me your blessing. If this is the last time we speak, I don’t want to part ways like this.” _

 

_ “Just promise me,” his mother gasps, “Promise me you will return? That’s all I ask of you.” _

 

_ Jeongin stands, approaching his mother and wrapping his arms around her. He thinks back to when he was a child seeking comfort in her arms, and how things have changed. By all means, he still is a child, but now he bears the responsibility of war. “I promise.” _

 

_ The next morning, he goes out to enlist, doing his best to stand tall and look brave among the lines of fearful soldiers around him, all boys his age, scared to die but also scared to live during wartime.  _


	13. Chapter VII: Starting All Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday TO ME AHHHHH
> 
> this is my birthday gift from me to you all, i bless you with a buttload of jeongchan now go forth and be free and happy and enlightened with the knowledge that on this day of july 5th the ultimate jeongchan shipper, aka me, ao3 author chewhy, was born.
> 
> enjoy reading! a lot of yall seemed confused ;) this chapter should clear some things up ;)

Chapter VII: Starting All Over

 

“It’s fine. You must be one of Changbin’s friends, right?”

 

_ What. The. Fuck. _

 

“I’m sorry, what? Seriously?” Okay, so maybe Jeongin did kind of ruin Chan’s image and basically has been only shit to Chan’s life throughout their very limited interactions, but Jeongin figured, or at least hoped somewhere deep down inside that Chan might, who knows… Remember him? 

 

Chan seems to be somewhat taken aback by Jeongin’s reaction and takes a half step back, looking bewildered and shocked and quite frankly just stupid as he stands there in a maroon suit jacket and tan pants combo covered in cheese sauce and salad dressing. “Um. You’re. I. Nice to meet you, I’m Chan.”

 

“Yeah, it’s an honor,  _ Your Highness _ ,” Jeongin says, bowing low to the ground before turning around and seeing himself back to the kitchen. “Now if you don’t mind, your clothes ate my food so I better refill my plate.”

 

Chan seems to hesitate for a second before nodding his head and stepping out of the room, leaving a small and timid, “I’m sorry” in his wake.

 

Jeongin heaves a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding before stacking more food on his plate, this time grabbing a cup and pouring himself a shot that is perhaps just a little more than one serving, or two, or three. “Who needs to shoot pictures with a camera when you can shoot back some soju?” he asks into the empty kitchen, giggling to himself. It was a shit pun but it’s been a shit week, too, so he pats himself on the back for that one.  _ Actually, make that a cruddy month _ , he thinks, pouring himself some more. 

 

Back in the living room, Jeongin observes from the doorway as Changbin, being Changbin, sets up a mic and speaker karaoke system in front of the television. 

 

As Changbin steps up to the mic and everybody begins to cheer, he wags a mischievous finger at them as he says, “Oh no, no, no. I’m not performing tonight, it’s my birthday. But, all of you guys have to sing me something in congratulations.”

 

Jeongin is underprepared, to put it mildly, but as he sees the other guests present exclaim with obviously faked groans, he realizes that it must be an expected tradition. 

 

Somebody shouts out, “I nominate Woojin!” and suddenly everybody is cheering as a guy about his age, maybe a few years older, is pushed up onto the stage. 

 

“Well then,” he, Woojin, says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Any special requests from the guest of honor?”

 

“Do a rap song!” a familiar voice shouts, and Jeongin cranes his neck to see Felix tucked into a corner on a couch next to Changbin.

 

“Okay, no requests then!” Woojin says, quickly moving on as the whole room laughs. 

 

Riding along with the atmosphere (and perhaps with a little bit of help from the alcohol), Jeongin starts to loosen up, smiling as he bobs along with the music. He notes that Woojin has an incredible voice as he belts out a rendition of BlackPink’s latest comeback, hitting the high notes with ease. It does, admittedly, make him a little bit nervous as he wonders if everybody here is that good, but then as guests take turns, sometimes going up in bunches of four to loudly sing  _ Happy Birthday to You _ off-key, any remaining butterflies in his stomach are digested along with the veggie platter in his hands. 

 

Suddenly, though, Felix is pointing right at him, and is shouting, “Jeongin! Your turn!”

 

When Jeongin tries to escape the room, looking around with a bewildered, “What?” the other guests around him block his way and nudge him over to the stage. 

 

Changbin laughs and says, “Please? For me?”

 

Whereas in any other situation, Jeongin might have run away, the hype of the party seems to be getting to him as he accepts the plastic mic into his hands. “Okay, well. I will sing my favorite song for you tonight, Changbin hyung. The title is... Shabang Shabang!”

 

Everybody laughs at the unexpected trot song, but they holler and cheer him on anyway, Felix’s low voice still carrying over the rest of the noise as he shouts, “That’s my roommate, bitch!”

 

Jeongin rolls his eyes but absorbs the encouragement into confidence and belts out the first few notes of the song. Immediately, people are laughing and shouting again, and suddenly it’s a feedback loop of laughter and singing as each tries to be louder than the other, gaining energy and momentum the louder they go. 

 

Halfway through he feels a prickle of attention and as his gaze travels around the room, he sees a mop of natural curly hair in the back of the room. Jeongin finds himself squinting a little bit, but decides to ignore it and continue on with the song. 

 

He closes with one final triumphant shout to tons and tons of cheering, and then stepping down from the stage area he sees Felix and Changbin make their way over to him. ]

 

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know you could sing like that!” Changbin exclaims. 

 

“I definitely did,” Felix interjects. “The kid just won’t stop singing in the shower, and even in his sleep.”

 

“What?!” Jeongin exclaims. “Take that back, no I don’t!”

 

“Ladies, ladies, please. Calm down, this is a day of celebration,” Changbin says, intervening. “Here, how about a toast? To friendships and birthdays and more to come.”

 

Somewhere in the back of Jeongin’s mind, he knows that he’s probably good on drinks, but also that part of his mind is no longer completely sober, so he reaches forward and downs it in a flat second. “Oh gross.”

 

Felix and Changbin just stare at him for a second before shrugging. “My turn to sing!” Felix exclaims, hopping up on stage and dragging Changbin with him.

 

Jeongin watches them go with a smile, and as they blast some rock song that has everybody moving, he finds himself moving back towards the wall to steady himself. After a few more performances pass, Jeongin feels a little suffocated in the crowd and looks around the room to see if he can find a clear path out of the room, but ends up locking eyes with one Mr. Prince Chan who seems to be attempting to blend into the back wall. 

 

He’s not sure if it’s the pettiness or the alcohol that makes him so confident, but he holds eye contact before making his way over to the balcony and stepping out. 

 

Out on the balcony, the night air is cooler against his skin and Jeongin feels like he can breathe again. However, as a few moments pass with no new face showing up beside him, Jeongin grows impatient and pokes his head back inside, scouring the room for Chan’s face. He makes a mental note that he’s still referring to Chan on a first name basis, although he isn’t sure that he’s allowed to do that anymore, but ends up deciding he doesn’t particularly care what Chan thinks of how Jeongin thinks. It’s not logical, but Jeongin could really care less.

 

Finally making eye contact with Chan again, Jeongin jerks his head to indicate the balcony door. 

 

On the other side of the room, Chan pantomimes a gesture to himself, before turning to look behind him and then back at Jeongin. 

 

“Ugh, he’s so stupid,” Jeongin mutters under his breath before nodding in an exaggerated motion, and then finally pointing a finger directly at him and then using his thumb to indicate the balcony behind him. Finally, Chan seems to understand the point and gingerly picks his way around the room before stepping out onto the balcony, pulling the door half shut behind him. 

 

“Hi.”

 

“How come you don’t remember me,” Jeongin says. It’s not really a question, and more of an accusation, as made clear by the glare he shoots in Chan’s direction. It’s really not his fault, though, that his gaze softens as he watches the late summer breeze ruffle the prince’s curls as his bangs fall into his eyes. 

 

“What?!” Chan seems more confused than upset by the attacking tone of voice. 

 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe, just maybe I left a little impact but I really guess not if you’re just treating me like a stranger!” Something solid hits his finger, and Jeongin looks down in surprise, realizing that he’s poking at Chan’s chest. “Oops. Sorry.”

 

And then suddenly, Chan is laughing, and laughing, and laughing until finally he’s bent over, hands on his knees as he cackles, and even though it’s an ugly laugh, Jeongin finds himself smiling and giggling, too. “What’s so funny?” he finally asks, when Chan stops laughing to gasp for breath.

 

“You. You are so, so ridiculous.” Jeongin just blinks at him, so Chan continues talking. “You were the one who cut off all ties with Jisung, who, by the way, is  _ incredibly _ upset with you.  _ And _ you sent me a note, along with the camera that I gifted you, saying to pretend that none of this ever happened, at all. So, I thought this was what you wanted. I thought you wanted me to forget it all.”

 

“Oh,” Jeongin says, processing. “You’re dumb.”

 

“I’m dumb?” Chan exclaims, staring down at Jeongin.

 

“Yeah. Why would you take it so literally. I thought you actually forgot who I was. I honestly don’t even remember writing that note, so you’re being stupid.” Yeah, okay, Jeongin couldn’t even tell you the first L in Logic today. Chan just shakes his head, opening his mouth to say something when Jeongin cuts him off before he can continue. “And! I am really sorry to Jisung. He seemed like he had plenty of friends and I just… panicked. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Forgive me?” he asks, looking up imploringly into Chan’s eyes. 

 

Chan just laughs, again, but this time it’s softer, more gentle, caressing Jeongin’s ears as it catches the breeze to carry itself over. “I’ve forgiven you long ago,” he says. “I would forgive you for anything, really,” and with that, he reaches out to touch Jeongin’s face, a finger lightly tracing his cheek. 

 

It’s weird, and intimate, and Jeongin really hopes he doesn’t vomit right now because suddenly Chan’s face is approaching, coming closer and closer until they are mere centimeters apart, and Jeongin holds his breath as Chan pauses, waiting for Jeongin to close the gap when suddenly, there’s a shrill scream coming from the other side of the door and they jump apart, giving each other quick looks before running inside in a hurry, completely missing the flashes of light and camera shutters that go off in the bushes three stories beneath them. 

 

Inside, where they had expected to find chaos, and maybe even a woman being murdered based on the sound of the screaming, they find Changbin standing in the middle of the makeshift stage area, screaming at the top of his lungs while Felix lays collapsed in a pile next to him, convulsing. Jeongin and Chan exchange looks once more, about to move forward to help when suddenly Felix rolls over and they can see that he’s… Cackling. Laughing. Cracking up. Hooting and hollering. They pause midstep, confused until finally Felix pulls himself up on weak and shaky legs and holds up a hooded shirt, dripping with red and white paint. 

 

“Supreme?” Felix asks, choking out his words through laughter, “More like… Super-meme!” And with that, he displays Changbin’s favorite Supreme hoodie, now vandalized to display the word “ _ SUPERMEME _ ” in boldface letters intermixed with Felix’s own trash handwriting. 

 

All this time, Changbin has not stopped screaming. 

 

Jeongin just looks to his side where Chan is taking in the whole debacle with wide eyes before finally turning and making eye contact, and suddenly they’re both doubled over, clutching their stomachs and laughing at the absurdity of it all. 


	14. Interlude pt. 7: Dream Sequence, Korean War, End

**Interlude pt. 7: Dream Sequence, Korean War, Continued**

 

_ “I cannot believe we’re in the middle of a war and you’re writing me love notes in morse code. This is straight out of a rom com but so unromantic,” Jeongin gasps between hiccups. His hysterics are calming down somewhat now that Chan is by his side, rubbing his shoulders until he’s completely relaxed.  _

 

_ “I don’t know, I thought it was cute. Like you.”  _

 

_ Jeongin isn’t sure when suddenly the battlefield became a place for courtship, but somehow, here he is, hunkered down in a tent with the Prince of Korea stroking his hand to calm him down after he’d woken from another nightmare.  _

 

_ War isn’t, and shouldn’t be bearable by any means, but perhaps he can get used to the routine of gunfire in the morning and bombshells at night, enough that he learns to look for the things he can hold onto. _

 

_ The letters from his family, finding a small toad hopping out of a rain-filled ditch, and Chan, a prince turned ordinary soldier, sitting by his side by the firelight as they clean their equipment and pack up for another night. _

 

_ “Do you believe in soulmates?” Jeongin finds himself asking, speaking up suddenly as he watches the reflections of the firelight flicker against Chan’s face. _

 

_ “No,” he answers slowly. “I don’t think I do. But I do believe in a love so strong it crosses boundaries. It crosses time. I do believe some people were truly meant to be.” _

 

_ “You silly,” Jeongin says, bumping his shoulder against Chan’s. “That is soulmates.”  _

 

_ “You think so?” he asks, smiling sorrowfully. _

 

_ “Of course.” _

 

_ “Well, my point is that even if you were fated to love somebody else, I would fight to the ends of the earth just to be the one by your side at the end of the day,” Chan concludes, putting down the rags in his hands so that he can hold onto Jeongin’s. “To even the ends of time.” _


	15. Chapter VIII: Give and Take

Chapter VIII: 

 

Jeongin gets home later that night with a giddy smile on his face and his phone clutched in his hand as he waits for the promised text message or call or whatever from Chan. Suddenly, his life is great and he’s on top of the world and he decides, or maybe the drinks and high of life decides, it’s about time he suck it up and call Jisung and…

 

Of course, nobody picks up considering it is 4 in the morning now but Jeongin just bites his tongue and hits the call button again. And again. And again. 

 

Luckily Felix isn’t around to be disturbed by any of this, having chosen to stay the night at Changbin’s place (although why Changbin even let Felix stay over after the entire mess with the Supreme hoodie, Jeongin isn’t quite sure, but maybe that’s true love). Unluckily, Jisung must have had enough of the ringing, and finally picks up the phone. His voice is groggy and scratchy with sleep, but Jeongin can’t help but feel a smile rise up on his face as he listens to Jisung speak.

 

“Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?”

 

“Hi, Jisungie. It’s me. Jeongin,” Jeongin finally answers after a few moments of silence.

 

“Jeongin,” Jisung breathes out, and his voice is shaky, and Jeongin is pretty sure that isn’t an aftereffect of sleep.

 

“Hi… How have you been?” Jeongin says gently. “I missed you.”

 

There’s a pause, and it stretches out so long that Jeongin goes to check that Jisung hasn’t hung up on him completely, but when he sees that the call is still continuing, he puts the phone back up to his ear and whispers, “Jisung?”

 

Jisung heaves a big sigh that crackles its way across the phone speaker, and Jeongin’s heart clenches, anticipating something awful, for Jisung to tell him he hates him for what he’s done but… Instead, Jisung says gently, softly, “I missed you, too.” 

 

Jeongin isn’t sure that this is what he deserves after all of the ghosting and avoiding he’s done, but he’ll take what he can get in this high of life he’s in, so he rolls over in his bed, getting up on his elbows so he can properly ask, “Now fill me in on all of the gossip I’ve missed these days. What’s the status of Seungmin and Hyunjin? Are they… you know what yet?”

 

Jisung laughs and it feels like maybe, just maybe, things are back to normal as he answers all of Jeongin’s rapid-fire questions and even has some of his own, asking about how Jeongin and Chan are (status unknown but positive) and letting him know that Seungmin is currently pissed off at Hyunjin for losing his midterm study guide, so Hyunjin has been running coffee errands every hour on the dot with an extra dollop of cream because he’s  _ whipped _ , oh! And! Jisung has some news himself, he tells Jeongin, as he describes how the security guard that they last met at the gate what seems like  _ years _ ago (but was probably only a few months ago) has started flirting back, and, and, and! Sometimes he even blushes at Jisung’s compliments. 

 

And so the night passes with the two chatting away to make up for lost time until the sun starts to rise out the window, washing Jeongin’s bedroom in the rosy hue of morning light as the fingers of dawn stretch into his room and pet him to sleep after a long night. Eventually, Jeongin’s eyelids droop down, down, down until his phone drops out of his grasp, landing gently on the pillow by his head as he snuggles deeper into his blankets to catch up on some much needed sleep.

 

On the other end of the line, Jisung just chuckles and whispers, “Good night, Jeongin,” before hanging up and setting his alarm to get a few more minutes of sleep before the hustle and bustle of the day begins again. 

 

\--

 

Jeongin blinks awake the next day, dried tears clinging to his lashes from some mix of a dream and a nightmare. He’s not entirely sure he can remember all of it, but somehow his ears still ring with gunfire and his body shakes with phantom aftershocks from something that never happened. Most of all, though, he remembers gripping a warm hand, tight, like his very last lifeline. As the sunlight shines across his face and into his eyes, he squints back for a moment before letting his arm fall across his face, wrist resting on his eyelids as they protect him from the glare of the morning sun. Although, with how bright it is it might as well be afternoon. 

 

He fishes around his bed to see if he can find his phone and lifts it to his face just to see that the battery is dead after his long call with Jisung. Crawling to the foot of his bed, he plugs it in at the end before dozing off once more while he waits for it to charge.

 

Moments later, Jeongin is jolted awake by the loud and shrill ringing of his phone which he reaches for but only really ends up batting off of the bed. With a groan, he reaches down a hand and answers with a gruff, “Hello?”

 

“Hey! Jeongin! It’s been a while buddy, remember me? Sangmin?” an unfamiliar voice calls across the speaker.

 

“What? Who?” Jeongin says, opening his eyes and looking at the caller ID. It’s an unknown number with an area code from his hometown. Without a second thought, he hangs up. 

 

Moments later, his phone starts ringing again, with yet another unknown number. And another. And another. And another. His text messages start to pile up as well, and Jeongin knows that if he hadn’t already deleted all the social media off of his phone, those would be blowing up as well. 

 

This isn’t what he wants and this isn’t what he needs and he’s honestly not sure why it’s all happening again, but just when he had thought things were getting better, more manageable, everything seems to start falling apart again. 

 

With shaking hands, he opens up his phone to the first news page that pops up, and he realizes that this time, he may really have to take some time off. 

 

It’s strange, though, he thinks. While he did drink more than he should have, he hasn’t forgotten any bit of the party from the night before, as he wasn’t gone enough to black out. And Jeongin is sure he would have remembered something like this, if it had happened. But there, under the top headline of every news source, is a photo of him, angled away from the camera and facing Chan, faces pressed close together, intimate and private. It’s an embrace and it’s… a kiss.

 

Which is shocking to Jeongin, because he remembers clearly,  _ it never happened _ . 

 

Lost in thought, mind far away though his eyes look on at the staged photograph, Jeongin misses the call from his mother that comes through the rest of the blocked notifications. It isn’t until the alert for a voicemail pops up that he startles and brings the phone up to his ear. 

 

The message is short and to the point. How very typical of a Busan woman. 

 

“ _ Come home. _ ”

 

\--

 

It’s only been a week or so since Jeongin has been home, deciding to take the rest of what’s left of the semester off as he helps out around the restaurant, staying in the back and washing dishes so that the paparazzi will stop harassing customers if they’ve seen a glimpse of  _ the boy who caught the heart of a prince _ , or whatever title they’ve dubbed him in the tabloids for that day. It’s only been a week, but still, it feels like it’s been ages as he exhausts himself working during the day, and then tosses and turns, hands itching to open his phone as his parents whisper and pretend not to watch the news. 

 

It’s a Thursday night, and Jeongin has just settled into his bed with a book and nothing better to do when the doorbell rings. 

 

His mom calls from the next room over for him to answer the door, and with a huff and a sigh, he drags himself out of bed, shuffling to the door in his pajamas and slippers. Looking at the time, he realizes it can’t possibly be a package delivery at this time of night, but he also doesn’t recall anybody ordering food. 

 

With a shrug, Jeongin opens the door, calling over his shoulder, “Hyung, did you order food- oh!”

 

There, on the other side of the doorstep stands Chan himself. He’s bundled up in a scarf, mask, hat, sunglasses and the whole shebang, blinking at Jeongin as Jeongin blinks back. 

 

“Can I come in?” he asks after a few moments pass. 

 

“Oh! Right! Of course, um, do you want to come to my room?” Jeongin says, stepping back to lead Chan in. 

 

His mother calls, still in her room, “Who is it?”

 

“It’s nobody!” Jeongin hurriedly says, rushing to get Chan into his room before any of his other family members can rush out. “I got it covered!”

 

And just like that, Chan, the prince of the Republic of South Korea, is sitting on his bed, looking up at the trot posters that Jeongin’s dad brought home when he was in fifth grade. Jeongin fidgets from side to side, as Chan observes the figurines and books scattered on his shelves and desk, wondering how to react to this situation. 

 

“So, how have-”

 

“Are you-”

 

They both stop, looking at each other before quietly giggling. 

 

“Go ahead,” Jeongin says, gesturing.

 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if it was rude or unexpected of me to come here, I just got worried because you weren’t answering any of my messages. I asked Felix for your address,” Chan says in a rush, blinking up at Jeongin with worried glances from between the gap of his scarf and hat. “I figured I would let you be for a week since you’re probably overwhelmed with everything that has happened but I just couldn’t help it, I had to know if you were okay or not,” Chan finishes, looking down at his hands.

 

“Oh.” Without realizing it, Jeongin moves forward and pulls Chan’s hat off of his head before taking the ends of Chan’s scarf in two hands, slowly and gently unravelling it from his face. “You can take these off, you know.”

 

Chan just smiles ruefully, looking down at Jeongin’s hands which now clutch Chan’s scarf. “I know.”

 

Jeongin is silent for a moment more, and just as he’s about to open his mouth to speak, Chan interrupts again. “I just. I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry.”

 

“Apologize? For what?” Jeongin asks, suddenly confused again.

 

“For… For this?” Chan asks, pulling one of the tabloids that Jeongin has been avoiding out of his back pocket. 

 

There it is again. That picture, that angle. 

 

“Oh. It’s fine, why would you apologize? It isn’t  _ your _ fault,” Jeongin says hurriedly. “Anyways, I’ve been fine. Just relaxing. And I’m sorry for not responding to your messages, my phone’s been off, Jeongin says, getting back up to reach for it on his table. 

 

“Wait,” Chan says, reaching a hand out and grabbing Jeongin’s wrist. “So, you’re not mad?”

 

“Why would I be mad?” Jeongin asks. He can’t help but find himself incredibly distracted by how warm Chan’s fingertips feel, even just resting against the back of his hand.

 

“Because… I tried to kiss you?” Chan asks, and oh. 

 

Jeongin stares for a moment then shakes his head and tries to focus. Slowly, he turns his hand until his palm meets Chan’s hand and he gently intertwines their fingers. “I’m not mad.”

 

“You’re not?”

 

“No. If anything… I’m more upset that everybody thinks we kissed when we didn’t even get the chance,” Jeongin says with a devilish smile. 

 

Chan reaches forward and grabs Jeongin’s other hand. “We can change that.”

 

\--

 

Later, after Chan sneaks out of the house, just barely avoiding running into Jeongin’s parent’s as Jeongin shoos him out in a fit of giggles, he breathlessly flops back onto his bed, wondering if that had really happened.

 

With a huff of disbelief, he squirms onto his side, burying his face into a pillow before letting out a shriek. From the next room over, his brother bangs on the door, shouting, “Be quiet! I’m trying to focus!”

 

“Sorry!” Jeongin calls before sliding down to the edge of his bed. He grabs his phone, turning it on as he wonders if maybe he should text Chan good night, or if he’s being too clingy already. 

 

Scrolling past all of his other notifications, a smile bursts onto his face as he sees the paragraphs of texts and rambles and worries from Chan that had come over the course of the week. 

 

He reads through, giggling to himself and taking a moment every now and then to remind himself to breathe.

 

_ 2:05AM _

_ Jeongin, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news and I’m sorry I’m reaching out so late but I am so incredibly sorry about everything _

 

_ 4:45AM _

_ I know I already said sorry but i really am _

 

_ 12:01PM _

_ Hey so i dont know if ur reading these messages, but no matter what does happen i just want you to know that everything still stands true to what i said that night _

_ 12:05PM _

_ And also i really like you _

_ 12:05PM _

_ Because you’re really nice _

_ 12:06PM _

_ And you’re funny. And sometimes, i thin kthat as different as our lives are, i see myself in you _

_ 12:11PM _

_ Did that sound arrogant? I’m so sorry _

 

_ 11:11AM _

_ 11:11 i hope you’re doing okay _

 

The messages go on and on, and Jeongin giggles, learning more about Chan from these bursts of texts, seeing him truly as a person and a boy than a prince as each message peels away another layer from the mystery that had surrounded him. 

 

It’s just then, just as Jeongin scrolls down to the bottom of the messages that his phone lights up with another notification, taking up his whole screen. 

 

And it’s just then, face paling as he reads these tiny words on a tiny screen that should be insignificant but really is life-shattering, that everything goes to hell. 

  
  
  
  


**_RED ALERT: THERE HAS BEEN A BOMBING IN THE ROYAL DISTRICT OF SEOUL. KING BANG OF THE CONGRESSIONAL MONARCHY OF SOUTH KOREA HAS BEEN HIT. THREE CIVILIANS DEAD._ **


	16. Final: Dreams Reflect Reality; Present Day. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end

**Final: Dreams Reflect Reality; Present Day. End**

 

 

_qualis artifex pereo - what an artist the world has lost in me_

-Nero

 

 

_Jeongin sits in the chapel, head bowed as he looks down at his feet. He’s not sure that he belongs here when he’s pretty sure that all he’s done is been a nuisance, but with Jisung gripping onto his hand so tight that their knuckles turn white, and Chan on his other side, face grim and stoic, Jeongin feels that maybe this is the only place he belongs._

 

_Jeongin wishes he could smile in this instance, but with the echoing silence of the ghosts of loved ones around them, only tears trickle down his face._

 

_Chan pats his knee gently, before standing and heading down the aisle up to the podium at the front. He clears his throat, face impassive and professional because as much as Minho was his friend, at this moment he is speaking on behalf of the entire nation, in place of his father, the King, who remains in recovery._

 

_Chan begins to speak, and as Jeongin looks up at the man standing at the front of the room, he realizes that this isn’t the person he knows and loves, this isn’t the person he exchanged laughs and stories with. It’s a stranger standing up there, giving a cold and empty speech about the lives lost for the sake of protecting the nation._

 

_Jeongin wonders if those lost lives really protected them rather than hurt them as he looks to the side and sees the piece of creased and folded paper clutched in Jisung’s other hand, spotted and stained with teardrops._

 

_Jeongin remembers how shaken and pale Jisung had been at the hospital when he had run inside, hand in hand with Chan, panicked and worried only to discover that they were too late. How Jisung had sunk to the floor, shock pushing away the tears as he pushed a letter into Jeongin’s hand, breathing out, “He’s gone, because of me.”_

 

_The paper is wrinkled and worried, almost falling apart at the creases, and Jeongin almost turned to vomit when he saw that it was stained red at one corner. Written in an elegant handwriting that Jeongin didn’t recognize, he felt like he was invading someone’s intimate privacy as he read on._

 

Dear Jisung,

 

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Writing a letter? Handwritten? How cheesy. The things I do for your sentimental ass. Anyways, the reason I’m writing this. I’ll keep it short, I’m not used to this kind of stuff. I’ve been informed that in a few weeks, I’ll be given a permanent assignment, so long as I can finish protecting His Royal Highness, the King, at these next few events.

 

Don’t worry. I’m not going far. In fact, I’ll be sticking very, very close. I hope you don’t tire of me _too_ quickly once I’m stationed on your personal guard.

 

I know you’ve always hated the idea of being tagged around everywhere and losing your privacy, but you’re in college now. I know this isn’t something you’re wanting to hear, but tensions are high and you’re not safe. Hopefully, you’ll allow me this one thing - to know that you’re safe because I will be there to protect you.

 

I probably won’t die or anything, let’s be real. But, this is my job after all. I just want to say that, if anything happens, I’m sorry that I won’t be around to protect you anymore. If this next assignment with His Highness goes well, I’ll be around to stay forever. And if not, then, I guess you’re reading this. And I’m sorry.

 

And, maybe this is unprofessional but… I love you.

 

-Minho

 

_And now, here they sit, Jisung breaking down and muttering to himself, “I never said it back. I never said it back. I didn’t get the chance to say it back.”_

 

_This wasn’t the reunion that Jeongin had imagined, but now, here, in the present Jeongin knows that he can’t ever let go of Jisung’s hand and that he won’t let go._

 

_He can’t help but wonder where that leaves himself to turn._

 

_Later, though, as they get back home, Chan pulls Jeongin into his arms, face buried in Jeongin’s hair as he just… breathes. And Jeongin knows that here, this is the real Chan. And he’ll never give up on him._

 

 

 

_\--_

 

 

 

_there’s just something about the notes of a string that take you soaring_

 

_the arc of a bow crossing the strings of a haegeum, the plucks and ticks of a gayageum as delicate fingers dance across the silk strings accompanied by the thudding of wood on leather, clashing and crashing to make the echoes of a buk ring into the air_

_it’s a weightless flight, no harnesses or straps, no engines or motors, just your body; floating, gliding, riding on the currents of the wind_

_it’s breathless and terrifying because there is no semblance of control, only trust_

_trust in nature, trust in the wind to take you to the peaks of mountains and set you down gently as a butterfly lands on a flower petal_

_it’s like running in a dream, but your legs aren’t the limits as you move up, down, soaring around like nothing has ever held you down_

_but eventually, like all good things, the music comes to an end_

_he touches down, settles two feet solidly on the ground, clumsy and unaccustomed to the gravity of earth, the way the dirt pushes back on the soles of his feet, hard, unforgiving_

_he brushes the tears from his eyes, and he walks_

 

_two steps forward, and a hand stretches out in front of him, lifting his chin up_

 

_"the world may take us away, but i will always know to find you again so that i may see art and beauty in the world once more"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah this was such a long journey!!! thank you all _so, so, so_ much for sticking with me through all this!!! i imagine some of you might be a little displeased at the ending, but it was all planned to be like this from the start heh heh... anyways, stay tuned for my upcoming jeongchan art forgery/heist au! i've also honestly grown so attached to even just the interlude scenarios that i might do spinoffs based on that... but anyway, thank you for the journey!!!

**Author's Note:**

> i made a couple mood boards for this fic and I would love if y'all checked it out: [[3racha](http://busanjeongin.tumblr.com/post/171365713891/the-king-is-dead-long-live-the-king-3racha-as)] [[jeongin](http://busanjeongin.tumblr.com/post/172117251615/tagged-by-s0ftminho-for-the-bias-moodboard)]
> 
> scream at me about stray kids on [[twitter](https://twitter.com/2jaepg)] and [[tumblr](http://busanjeongin.tumblr.com/)]!
> 
> kudos and comments always appreciated <3  
>  
> 
> [Buy Me a Coffee!](https://ko-fi.com/R6R27QMR)


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